


It Will Be a Good Fight

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Into Darkness - Fandom
Genre: Augmentation, Graphic Violence, Homoeroticism, Khan being a sexy bastard, Khan is Predatory, Kirk is Augmented, Language, M/M, NO GENDERBENDER, Oops, Slash, Smut, Violence, how the fuck do you augment people, like damn, like i have no idea, so i just wrote whatever it ended up being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:18:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise was not able to warp away from the Vengeance at the edge of the Neutral Zone. Kirk is taken hostage by Khan, and held on the Vengeance for reasons unknown. Star Fleet desperately tries to contain the incident in the only way it knows how; the danger of Khan Noonien Singh roaming about the galaxy is too great.</p><p>EDIT: Because I've received some complaints, I'll post a note here: Many people die in this story, and one single character in particular may be your favorite character. Please do not leave me a comment telling me that you quit reading the story because that character died. I do not want to deal with any more of them, and all incoming comments dealing with that subject matter from this day forth will be deleted. Thank you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, people! New story! New story! I hope you enjoy! Star Trek Into Darkness…. holy shit…. the Cumberbatchiness is just overwhelming :) And for whatever reason (probably cuz I’m a twisted bitch with nothing better to do) I began to imagine Kirk and Khan together. And thus, this beautiful AU was born!  
> This story is a repost from my FanFiction.net account (I don't want it to get taken down due to the nature of the fic, so why not post it here, too?) and posting on this site will be a bit slow because of the interfaces that I need to use (because FF.net won't just let me copy the text from my story on that site and paste it here), but it'll get done eventually.  
> Hope you enjoy :)

On the bridge of the Vengeance, Captain Kirk, Chief Engineer Scott, and weapons specialist Carol Marcus lay sprawled in various positions on the floor, broken or bleeding or unconscious. Khan sat in the center of the room, in the captain’s chair, smugly smirking at the image of the Enterprise bridge onscreen. 

“I’ll make this very simple for you. Your crew for my crew.” Khan said casually, as if he were speaking about the weather.

“You betrayed us.” Spock said in monotone. His logic was failing him. 

“Oh, you are smart, Mr. Spock.” Khan mocked the Vulcan. “Give me my crew.” 

Spock allowed a mask of false calm to settle over his features. “And what will you do when you get them?” 

“Why should it matter to you? You’re not in much of a position to be asking questions. I have your captain, after all.” Khan picked up a phaser and gestured vaguely at Kirk with it, enjoying how Spock visibly tensed as the weapon was pointed at the blonde. “Shall I destroy him, Mr. Spock? Or will you give me what I want?” 

“We have no transporter capabilities.” Spock said, teeth clenched, obviously attempting to stall for time. The tension on the bridge of the Enterprise couldn’t have been cut with a photon torpedo. 

“Fortunately mine are perfectly functional. Lower your shields,” demanded Khan. 

“If I do so, I have no guarantee that you will not destroy the Enterprise.” The ever-logical Spock questioned, moving to sit in the captain’s chair of the bridge. “Likewise, I have no guarantee that you will return the captain to us.” 

Spock stared at the image of Khan on the screen. His older self had warned him quite grievously about Khan Noonien Singh. Then, when Spock had asked him if he’d managed to defeat Khan in his timeline, the elder had told him that while he had defeated Khan, he had done so at great cost. Spock refused for that cost to be the life of his captain. He fought to keep his face straight when Khan gripped Jim’s hair and yanked his bloodied face into Spock’s view. 

“You cannot be certain of either of those things. However, you should be certain of this – I will kill everyone on this bridge, beginning with the daughter of that filth Marcus, and ending with your precious Captain.” Khan smiled maliciously and stroked a finger across the bleeding and unconscious Jim’s face. He then turned his smile off immediately and unceremoniously dropped the blonde to the floor with a loud thud. He turned back to the silent image of the Enterprise’s bridge with a frown. “From your lack of response, I assume you do not believe me. Observe, as I demonstrate my resolve.” 

Khan stood abruptly from his chair and turned to his left. 

“What are you doing?” Uhura called in alarm, standing from her seat as if trying to stop Khan. 

The entire bridge, save for Spock, cried out in horror as Khan made his way over to Carol Marcus, who desperately tried to move away from him, sobbing in pain and fear as she did so. Khan caught her easily, clasped his hands around her skull, and twisted until a sickening snap echoed across the connection between the two ships. 

The bridge of the Enterprise fell silent. 

Carol Marcus’s head lolled to the side at an impossible angle, and Khan allowed her body to fall to the floor. 

Crushing silence held until Khan sat back down in the captain’s chair of the Vengeance. He raised an eyebrow at the image of the shocked crew, as if daring them to make him kill another. 

Spock twitched slightly. “If we lower our shields, you will return our captain to us and allow us to safely travel back to Earth once you have your crew?” Carol Marcus’s death hadn’t affected Spock very much; he was still bitter over the fact that she’d come aboard the Enterprise as an additional Science Officer and Kirk had welcomed her with arms that seemed a little bit too open….

“I will target your life support systems located behind the aft nacelle. And after every single person aboard your ship suffocates I will walk over your cold corpses to recover my people.” Khan said simply, leaning back, looking very much like the captain he claimed to be. “I do not need to make a deal with you, but I am…willing to spare you.” Khan paused for a moment as he saw the hesitation of the acting captain. “How about this, then? You have five minutes to discuss your decision amongst yourselves, privately. I will make no moves during this time. If you attempt to run, I will catch you, and I will slaughter you all.” Khan pressed a button on the armrest of his chair and the image onscreen dissipated. 

Back on the Enterprise, Spock was being bombarded with questions. 

“What do we do, Mr. Spock?” 

“Acting Captain, what is our decision?” 

“Spock, we can’t lower our shields; he’ll kill us without a second thought once he has his crew!” 

“What do we do?” 

“How do we save the Captain?” 

“We can’t let him kill the Captain!” 

Spock held up a hand and the noise ceased. “Please, be silent. We will discuss this using logic and reason.” But Spock didn’t know if he could think logically; this ruthless Khan character had his captain, his Jim, and there was no guarantee that he would get him back in one piece, if at all. 

Uhura turned to Spock, eyes wet and tear tracks on her cheeks, “Spock,” she said, almost whispering, “we can’t let him kill Kirk.” 

Spock’s composure broke momentarily. “I know,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a second. He opened them again and stared at the fearful and weary members of his crew. “We will retrieve Captain Kirk, and we will attempt to escape from this encounter with everyone aboard this ship alive.” He tapped a button on the chair’s armrest and opened the ship-wide comm. “This is Acting Captain Spock speaking. All decks, prepare for imminent attack.” He switched over to a direct channel to the engineering department. “Mr. Chekov, what is the status of the warp core? Has it been fully repaired?” Spock demanded. 

“Ze core is sewerely damaged, Keptain. Ze patch-up job on ze coolant leak is broken ewen though ve did not varp earlier. Ve could varp but I vould not recommend it.” Pavel Chekov said. 

“How long until we can safely warp, Mr. Chekov?” Spock ground out. 

“I vould say at least ten minutes, Sir.” Chekov squeaked when he heard the impatience in Spock’s voice. 

“Let me know when we are able to warp, Chekov.” Spock said, and slapped the button to terminate the connection. He turned back to the anxious faces of the bridge crew. “We will lower our shields and allow him to reclaim his ‘crew.’ Dr. McCoy, I want you to gather every medical officer and every member of engineering not working on the warp core. Remove the cryo tubes from the missiles. When Khan reopens the connection, I will stall for as much time as I can. When all of the tubes are out, place the casings back-” 

“Captain, we’re nearing the end of the time allotted for discussion—” 

Without missing a beat, Spock asked, “How much time to we have left?” 

From somewhere on the bridge, Sulu replied, “Twenty seconds.” 

Twenty seconds. Twenty seconds until the channel was reopened. Twenty seconds until Spock’s Captain would live or die because of a choice Spock was making-! Just twenty. “Change of plans. Everyone stay on the bridge. We will give him what he wants and…hope he returns Captain Kirk to us.” Spock clenched his jaw. He didn’t like relying on his gut feelings like the Captain often did. But if he did anything else, there was the danger of Jim being killed. 

There was a soft ping from the view screen and Khan’s face-

-smirking, like the insufferable bastard he was-

-reappeared. 

“Hello, again, Mr. Spock. Long time, no see.” Khan drawled. “Now that I have that out of the way, shall we begin? Your decision, please.” 

Spock barely held in a sigh of defeat. He refused to directly answer Khan. “Sulu, lower shields.” 

Khan appeared as if he could barely contain his glee. “Thank you, Mr. Spock.” He saw the torpedoes appear in the weapons bay of the Vengeance on the security monitors and grinned widely. “Off you trot.” He said when he turned back to the Enterprise. 

Spock immediately perked up. “You have not returned the captain or Mr. Scott to us.” 

Khan glanced disdainfully at the Chief Engineer to his right. He tapped a few buttons and scoffed, “That one, you can have.” 

Scotty appeared in the brig, in need of medical attention and still unconscious. 

“Now give us the Captain back.” Uhura spoke out, frowning determinedly at the screen. 

The corners of Khan’s lips quirked up into an evil smile. He reached down and pulled Jim into view once more. The captain looked marginally better than he had before, but he was still limp and lifeless. 

“I don’t know if I should,” Khan said, raising his phaser to Jim’s face and stroking the barrel across his bruised cheek, “I think Mr. Kirk would make a wonderful pet.” 

“Release the captain.” Spock openly growled, moving forward towards the view screen. The rest of the bridge looked at him in shock for a minute before recovering themselves. “We did what you demanded. Return Captain Kirk to us, now.” 

“No…no, I don’t believe I shall.” Khan smirked and pulled Jim backwards until the captain was sitting on his lap, head lolling on Khan’s shoulder. Khan stroked the tan column of Jim’s exposed throat with the tip of the phaser. “You should leave while you have the chance. If you stay here much longer, I will destroy the Enterprise and all of her crew.” 

“If you do not release the captain right now, we will eject the warp core of our vessel and detonate it. The pressure wave of such an explosion has proven to be strong enough to match and counter the force of the gravity of a class six black hole. The Vengeance will be destroyed, along with you and all of your still-slumbering crew.” Spock spat viciously. 

“I know very well the kind of power a detonated warp core releases, Mr. Spock. I have read the reports of the Narada incident. I also know exactly how far the radius of such a blast will extend. Your ship will be caught in the explosion as well.” Khan stated. “Not to mention the fact that you would be killing your precious Captain as well. Don’t try to threaten me, Mr. Spock. You know who I am – it doesn’t work.” A groan came from the blonde Captain and Khan looked at him in amusement. “Ah, it appears he is finally waking up.” 

Jim opened bleary blue eyes groggily and managed to ignore the arm wrapped around his waist, holding him against someone’s chest long enough to see the bridge of his ship on the view screen. His head pounded and ached. “Wha…whushhh g-going on?” He slurred. 

“Your crew is going to die.” Khan muttered smoothly in Jim’s ear. “They refuse to leave you here to save themselves.” 

Going to die? His crew? No, no, no. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. 

“What?” Jim asked, suddenly alert and struggling against the steel band of an arm that was across his abdominal area. “Spock?!” 

“Captain!” Spock said, relief evident in his voice. He locked his eyes on his Captain’s broken and bruised form on the view screen. “Khan has his crew, and we retrieved Mr. Scott. Ms. Marcus, however…suffered the wrath of Khan.” 

Jim shook his head a bit to clear it. Carol was dead? How long had he been out? But Scotty was safe… “Spock, is everyone onboard except for me?” 

“Yes, Captain. We’ve been trying to negotiate your release with Khan, but-” 

“Spock, take off, now! He’ll end you if you don’t leave!” Jim said. He looked around the bridge for a moment, wincing as his eyes found the body of Carol Marcus and the body of her father, and then turned back to the monitor. “I’ll find some way out of this.” He punctuated his sentence with a harsh jerk in an attempt to escape from Khan’s grip. 

Spock retorted with surprising anger and insubordination, “Captain, we cannot leave you here. Khan Noonien Singh is too dangerous - you will be killed, tortured, or worse!” 

“Definitely worse,” Khan purred lowly. His breath was hot in Kirk’s ear.

“Spock,” Jim said confidently, “get away from here as fast as you possibly can. Rendezvous with Starfleet. That’s an order.” He felt, rather than heard, Khan begin to chuckle. He also felt a hand sliding dangerously down to his waist.

Spock’s lips twisted into a snarl. “I cannot leave you, Captain. It is against regulation-”

“And you know me well enough to understand that I don’t give a fuck about regulation! Return with reinforcements. I will be fine.” Kirk commanded. “Go.”

Khan cut the transmission with a tap of his finger. “If you believe I will allow them to reclaim you, you are sorely mistaken.” He whispered calmly in Jim’s ear. 

Jim tensed. “If you believe I’ll go down without a fight, you’re sorely mistaken.” He growled. 

“I have no doubt about that, Captain,” Khan breathed silkily. “And it will be a good fight, I’m sure.”

Jim wondered just what the hell he’d gotten himself into. 

*~*

Tears ran freely down the faces of several members of the alpha shift. Their captain…their captain was as good as dead…

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Spock closed his eyes in resignation when Chekov comm’d him, “Sir, varp is awailable at your command.” His normally bubbly voice was extremely sober.

“Sulu, set course for Earth.” 

Sulu’s voice was heavy with remorse. “Course laid in.” 

“Maximum warp.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

When the stars began to blur together, it was because of the warp. When the sharp angles and lines of the bride began to blur together, it was because of the tears in Spock’s eyes. 

!@#$%^&*()*&^%$#@!

By the time the Enterprise had arrived back at the neutral zone with reinforcements, the Vengeance was gone. Completely and utterly gone. There wasn’t even a trace of warp radiation in the area. 

It was just as Khan had planned. He’d stabbed a hypo with a heavy sedative that Kirk was not allergic to into his neck as soon as the Enterprise had warped away. The blonde had sagged against him weakly, mumbling things that didn’t make any sense, and acting extremely…affectionate. Khan reluctantly avoided Kirk’s advances and managed to get him to go to sleep in the First Officer’s quarters. 

Khan had then found a nice spot of open, neutral space, and navigated the Vengeance to said spot at the break-neck speed of warp ten. The Vengeance idled there while Khan strode quickly and quietly through the hallways of the huge combat ship to the weapons bay to wake his sleeping crew. 

After about twenty minutes, the first groans of his previously slumbering family reached his ears. He grinned so largely he thought his cheeks might split. Glee flooded through his veins and he found himself remembering the defeated, sorrowful looks of the bridge crew of the Enterprise, especially that poor excuse for a First Officer. It was wonderful to force that kind of emotion out of a Vulcan. 

Khan’s grin morphed into something more sinister. Starfleet would be coming to find them soon, and Khan’s crew would be ready for them. With his hands loosely clasped behind his back, he wandered around the cryo tubes as the occupants began the tiring process of waking up. This would be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go- Chapter 2!  
> -DH

Jim stared groggily around a room that looked almost identical to the Captain’s Quarters aboard the Enterprise. The color scheme was a bit darker and the furniture looked geared more towards being functional than being stylish, but Jim couldn’t complain – at least he wasn’t in a holding cell in the brig. He suffered a wave of intense dizziness when he tried to sit up, so he was definitely content to simply lie on the bed for a while. 

He became alert when the door made a whoosh as it slid open, and in stepped Khan, wearing a Starfleet uniform meant for a captain, not a hair out of place. He was followed by a tall, blonde-haired man with bright green eyes who Kirk could only guess was Khan’s first officer. He didn’t bother to press the button to close the door behind him once he stepped fully into the room, and Kirk briefly had the notion of trying to escape. 

Then he remembered the speed and strength that Khan, at least, had displayed when completely decimating the Klingon patrol – he remembered the pain exploding through his skull and ribs when he was violently assaulted back on the bridge of the Vengeance. Jim didn’t feel like antagonizing the superhuman to drive him to do something like that again. 

“You had a concussion, you know.” Khan remarked lightly, stepping forward a few paces towards the bed that Jim occupied, and the blonde sat up and scooted as far away from the superhuman as possible. “You’re lucky this ship has a med bay, or you’d be much worse off.” 

What was Khan going to try and do? Was he going to lord this debt over Jim’s head? 

Khan didn’t speak for a few seconds, obviously waiting for some kind of response. Jim elected to remain silent. 

“I know you have questions, Captain Kirk,” Khan declared finally, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Are you saying you’d answer them?” Jim asked incredulously. “Honestly?” 

“I’ll answer some of them. I’ll answer the ones that I believe you have the rights to know,” Khan replied. 

“Why would you tell me anything?” Jim wondered, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I was your captive. Why not keep me in a cell in the brig?” 

“You’re not a prisoner, Kirk. You’re a guest,” Khan smiled but to Jim it didn’t look like a smile – it was sharp and cold, almost taunting, and full of empty assurance. Oh no, don’t worry, little pig – I’m a vegetarian. I have no desire to eat you.

Jim wondered just how hard he’d been hit in the head. Instead of doing anything to respond to Khan, he looked down at himself. Someone had changed Jim’s gold shirt and black pants into the military-black-and-gray that all of the Vengeance crew seemed to be wearing when they’d attacked him and Scotty and Khan earlier that day. Jim paused in his train of thought, and then glanced over at Khan.

“How long has it been since…” Jim didn’t know what to call it. How long had it been since he’d been drugged? How long had it been since the Vengeance attacked the Enterprise? How long had it been since Khan crushed Admiral Marcus’s skull in between his steely, inhuman hands? “How long have I been out?” Jim asked instead. 

“You’ve been unconscious for approximately twenty-five hours,” Khan answered casually. A day. Jim had been unconscious for an entire day.

“Where are we?” 

“I’m afraid I’m not going to tell you that, Kirk.” A flicker of irritation jolted through Jim’s veins.

“Why?” 

“Oh, Kirk. I know that there’s not much you can do with that information, but I do have to keep you in the dark about some things, don’t I?” Khan smirked. His deep timbre was mocking. There wasn’t much that Jim could do? He could program an escape pod, fly a shuttle, sent a distress signal…

Or was Khan convinced that he could squash any escape attempt that Jim made?

Jim gritted his teeth, but tried not to let his indignity show. He decided to try a different tactic. “No, that’s not what I was asking.” He allowed himself a brief moment of happiness at the flash of confusion that showed on Khan’s face. “I want to know why you kept me hostage. Revenge? Ransom?” 

Khan’s smirk widened into a grin. “I kept you hostage because I found you intriguing. I want to know what makes you tick, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim sat and let that sink in for a moment. He was still alive only because of the intrigue of a merciless superhuman who would love nothing better than to take revenge on the entire world for the way he and his crew had been treated. He felt a dull horror seeping through his body. 

“What’s going to happen to me, now that I am your…guest?” Jim hesitantly asked. He later couldn’t decide whether that was the best or worst thing he could have possibly asked in that moment. 

Khan’s smile faded and his mouth formed a serious line. He stalked closer to Jim, who scrambled to get away from him. Kirk clambered gracelessly off the bed and pressed himself against the metal wall. Khan effortlessly trapped the captain in place with his arms and leaned so close that Kirk could see the pupils in his impossibly light blue-green-gray eyes dilate and holy shit he’s just way too close --- 

“Don’t you worry about that, Captain,” Khan whispered, his warm, minty breath washing over Jim’s face. “You’ll find out eventually.” 

Jim blinked slowly, trying to concentrate more on what Khan was actually saying rather than the extremely full lips the words were spilling from. If Khan were any closer to Jim, their noses would collide. The captain didn’t notice that he’d stopped breathing until the world began to swim right before his eyes and his face felt hot. He glimpsed a tiny smirk spread across Khan’s lips before the superhuman was all the way across the room at the door again, next to his first officer. 

“The final meal of the day will be served in the Mess Hall in approximately two hours, Kirk. Join us if you’d like. However, if you would rather dine alone, there is a replicator installed in the wall over there,” said Khan with a broad gesture to the right of Jim. “I’ll see you later,” and with that, Khan and his first officer were gone, and the door slid shut once again. 

Jim moved away from the wall on shaky legs and sat down on the bed. Idling there, Jim had the sudden wild thought of maybe I shouldn’t have told Spock to leave me here. He shook his head back and forth the second the notion formed in his brain. No, no, I did the right thing – everyone would have been killed, the Enterprise would’ve been destroyed. I made the right call. 

He was confident about his decision until he looked around the cold, metal, unwelcoming interior of the Captain’s Quarters. If this was the allotted space for a Captain – of such a huge and impressive ship, no less – he dreaded to see what the cells in the brig looked like. The entire room felt like a prison. 

I made the right call…didn’t I?

!@#$%^&*()()*&^%$#@!

Spock put his head in his hands, an entirely human gesture that he definitely was not happy about demonstrating in front of his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, that is. He and Uhura had come upon a few bumps in the road and, despite both of them being willing to flatten those bumps, they had mutually decided that separating was the best option. 

Uhura laid her hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch his skin, as that would be improper, and said, “Don’t worry, Spock. We’ll find him.” 

“The statistical likelihood of Starfleet being able to successfully locate a ship which they didn’t even know existed until a day ago and capturing said vessel without harming anyone onboard is less than two percent, Lieutenant. I am far beyond the point of worry.” Spock replied coldly, shrugging off her hand and moving to the other side of the table to discuss tactics with a couple of captains who had also been called to the meeting. The entire council, which had been convened at very short notice, buzzed with conversation.

The deaths of Admiral Marcus and Admiral Pike, along with the attack on the Enterprise and the kidnapping of its captain, and the attack made by the war criminal Khan Noonien Singh on the Klingon home planet of Qo’noS, had qualified as offenses against the entirety of Earth; therefore, a special meeting of all the Earth’s leaders had been called. 

“Excuse me! Please find your seats and your debriefing packets quickly, we have to get moving on this.” Called Admiral Archer, the temporary head of Starfleet. “Now, if those of you not aware of the situation would take a moment to watch the following presentation, we can get this going.” 

The meeting lasted too long, in Spock’s opinion. His first urge was to storm off and find and reclaim the captain by himself. Of course, the logic that he clung to when his human emotions overwhelmed him told him that that definitely was not a good idea, and eventually the captains and presidents and kings and queens who were present at the meeting came to a decision that they all agreed upon:

They would send three quarters of all the vessels with offensive capabilities docked in Earth’s orbit to find and capture the Vengeance, with as little collateral damage as possible. Spock was pleased to discover that he was assigned to the Enterprise as its acting captain, and that the ship was one of the ones to be sent on the mission. 

‘As little collateral damage as possible.’ Of course, Spock would do his best to follow this order, but…if a certain war criminal happened to get in his way, Spock couldn’t guarantee anything. 

“Let’s go,” Spock said to Uhura as the meeting came to an end and they were urged to prepare the ships for flight. 

Uhura followed Spock without hesitation, and they made their ways to the transport pads in silence, for which Spock was grateful – he didn’t know if he’d be able to participate in any sort of conversation. 

“Acting Captain Spock to Enterprise. Two to beam up.” Spock barked, and barely noticed Uhura’s wince at his harshness. 

The transporter room opened up before Spock’s eyes, and he was off. In a few minutes, he’d made his way to the bridge and sat down in the captain’s chair. He tapped the comm and spoke to the entirety of the ship. 

“I’m sure that our situation needs no explaining to those of you who witnessed the calamity on the edge of the neutral zone yesterday, however, as some of you are here as replacements for the crew members who were lost in the attack, I will recount the events of that day,” Spock took a deep breath, “At 100 hours yesterday morning, the Enterprise was attacked on the edge of the neutral zone by Admiral Marcus, who was later killed by the war criminal Khan Noonien Singh. That same war criminal later killed Carol Marcus, Admiral Marcus’s daughter, and kidnapped our captain, Jim Kirk. 

Our mission is to locate the Vengeance, the ship that Khan has commandeered, and capture it with as little collateral damage as possible. Please be aware that Khan has a crew of seventy-two superhumans, who possess strength at least five times that of an average human male, and twice that of an average Vulcan male. Despite the orders of Admiral Archer, all weapons are to be locked to ‘kill.’ All decks prepare for immediate departure. To quote our captain, ‘Let’s go get this son of a bitch.’ Spock out.” 

Everyone on the bridge was silent, having prepared his or her station and equipment as he was explaining. Spock glanced around at the sober faces and emotion began to seep through his carefully built walls. 

“Please believe me, everyone. I can’t guarantee that we’ll find Captain Kirk, nor that we will bring Khan to justice, but I can guarantee that we will try our best. Mr. Sulu, please lay in a course for the neutral zone.” Spock ordered. 

“Course laid in, Captain.” 

“Thank you. Warp six, please.” 

“Engaging warp six, Captain.” 

Spock sat rigidly in his seat the entire way. 

!@#$%^&*()*&^%$#@!

Jim didn’t quite know what to do after he both made and ate his selection of pasta and garlic bread from the replicator. Khan hadn’t forbidden him from using the ship’s computers or even going outside of his room, so he decided to try. In fact, the superhuman hadn’t even told him that he should stay inside of his room.

“Join us if you’d like…I’ll see you later…”

Jim clenched his jaw and stood from his place on the bed. He walked over to the door and pressed the button and walked into the hallway. 

“Oh, hello, there, Mr. Kirk! How are you this evening?” God, did all of the superhumans have attractive British accents?

Jim looked to his left in surprise. It was the blond, green-eyed first-officer who had come to visit him along with Khan earlier. The heavily-muscled man was smiling jovially and walking towards him with an easy stride. 

The captain thought as fast as he could. “I’m doing well, thanks. And you, Mr…?” 

“Daelman, Naldo Daelman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirk.” Daelman held his hand out, still smiling broadly with bright white teeth. 

“Ummm…yeah,” Jim said, shaking the hand held out to him. 

“Where were you heading off to?” Daelman asked. 

Jim, as a captain, knew, more or less, how to read people. In fact, he was often praised for doing just that. It seemed to just come very easily to him. And as a person who could usually tell if someone was thinking less than nice thoughts, Jim would tell you, if you’d asked him, that Daelman’s curiosity was genuine.

“Needed to stretch my legs,” Jim replied, shifting from foot to foot for emphasis. 

“Oh, sure, sure,” Daelman nodded, still smiling, “You know what? I was just heading over to the recreational room to play a game of chess with the captain! Why don’t you come join us?” 

Anxiety was a tight knot in Jim’s throat and he cleared it as quickly as he could before backtracking, “Oh, no, I really don’t want to impose! In fact, I think that I’ve stretched enough for now.” 

“Nonsense! You just stepped out of your room! Come with me, please?” Daelman looked at Jim with huge blue eyes and suddenly the two of them were strolling down the corridor together, the superhuman grinning triumphantly. 

With such extraordinary abilities of manipulation, Jim wondered why they needed enhanced strength at all. 

Daelman glanced over at Jim while he led the blond down the twists and turns of the gray hallway and then turned his eyes back to where he was walking. “You know,” he said, voice more sober than it had been before, “Captain Singh told us about what you did for us. How even though he killed someone very dear to you…when he told you about us, you showed compassion. You could have destroyed me and the rest of the crew so easily, but you didn’t. And I’d…” Daelman trailed off for a minute, his eyes getting misty, “I’d just like to say thank you. On behalf of everyone.” 

Jim bit his tongue to keep from answering with something along the lines of “anybody would’ve done it, don’t thank me for it.” Instead, he nodded once at the man and willed himself to keep quiet. 

“The captain is grateful to you, too. He’ll never admit it, or ever really show it, but he is.” Daelman declared, his smile returning. Then he turned left down a different branch of the corridor and came to a stop in front of a slightly less gray door, which swooshed open at the press of a button.

Jim was glad that once they stepped inside, the people didn’t gawk at them; they merely glanced up or waved a hand in greeting, and then went back to what they were doing. 

“Hello, Kirk,” Khan sat at a tall white table upon which sat an obsidian and white marble chess set. The man’s eyes looked especially light and his hair especially dark against the abyss gray walls of the rec room, Jim noticed. “Nice to see you up and around. I assume you’ll be joining us for a while.” It wasn’t a question, but Jim replied anyway.

“Yeah. Your first officer insisted,” Jim said with a strained smile that seemed to amuse the brunette captain. 

“He does have a way with persuasion, does he not?” Khan mused, placing the chess pieces in their proper squares. “Have you played chess before, Kirk?” 

“Yes, I have. I play with my first officer daily.” Jim said, gaining more confidence in speaking as the conversation went on. 

“Ahh, yes. The Vulcan. I can imagine how those games ended,” Khan mocked, raising his eyes to meet Jim’s, “Sit down. I’ll have a short match with Naldo and then perhaps you’ll test your chess skills against mine.” 

Jim kept his head high as he stalked around the table to the opposite side and sat down in a prime spot to watch the game. 

The match between First Officer Daelman and Captain Singh was short-lived, but enjoyable. Jim could tell as he observed that both of them were trying to stay ten or twelve moves ahead of the other, but Khan seemed to be the only one succeeding. He’d declared ‘check’ within the first five moves, and ‘checkmate’ after another four. 

Daelman had accepted his defeat gracefully and stood, claiming he had business elsewhere on the ship, but Jim glimpsed a wicked twinkle in his eye. Jim understood what was expected of him now that the chair directly across from Khan was free, and shifted over without complaint. 

He tried to stop feeling like a rabbit before a lion, and found that he couldn’t. Khan pinned him with electric eyes and he froze. 

“Now, Mr. Kirk,” Khan purred lowly, leaning forward over the reset chessboard, “why don’t we play a game?”

Jim didn’t even need to move one of the pieces to know that he’d already lost.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, hello there! I hope you had a good day and are now coming to read my little story as a way to unwind and relax and be happy – then again, I know that some of you might just be here for the slash, and that’s okay too. We’ll have a great time, I promise. It’ll be just like a slumber party! Except that I’m not giving any of you my address. Nothing personal, but I don’t want to risk bodily harm.

“Captain Kirk, I’ve seen how you operate,” Khan said, making his first move, “and you don’t seem the type to sacrifice any of your crew for the sake of strategy,” his eyes lit up as Jim countered with a shift of his own and moved again.

“You don’t seem the type to take prisoners, but I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?” Jim shot back.

“Perhaps not,” Khan said as he captured Jim’s pawn. He smirked when Jim grimaced slightly and scrambled to regain the ground he’d lost. “It seems that playing games with your Vulcan has trained you somewhat, at least,” said the brunet when Jim brought forth yet another pawn, “But let me guess – you haven’t won a match against him yet.”

Jim elected to remain silent while he watched Khan’s long, pale fingers slide a new piece forward.

Before Jim knew it, he’d fallen into a trap. He could plainly see that there were at least five different ways that Khan had him in check, but Khan didn’t go for the victory immediately. In fact, he leaned against the back of his chair with a tiny smug smile, and Jim frantically looked over the entirety of the board to see if there was even a chance to get away.

He’s toying with me. The bastard is enjoying watching me panic. Jim’s hands fell uselessly to his lap and he took a deep breath. A quick glance up caught Khan reaching for his queen.

“Checkmate,” Khan declared, knocking over Jim’s king. He smiled at the blond’s defeated frown, “Oh, don’t look so down, Kirk. You actually lasted a lot longer than I thought you would. In fact, it makes me wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve.”

Jim didn’t know exactly what Khan meant by that statement, but the way he said it made it sound vulgar and inappropriate and had Jim almost blushing. He fought down the urge, though, and stood from his seat.

“If that’s all, I should be –” Jim stopped, wincing. The ending of his sentence ‘getting back to my duties’ died on his lips. Khan raised an eyebrow.

“‘You should be –’ what, Kirk? You should be getting to the bridge? You should be talking with your First Officer? Do you forget yourself so easily?”

The superhuman was amused, and Jim, understandably, was not.

Fucking bastard. Ugh…Quick, Jim! Say something or you’ll look like an idiot!

“I should be getting back to my room,” said the blond. Getting back to his room, indeed. There was nothing for him to do in there, except sleep, and Jim was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be able to, anyway. Not after the day’s worth of sleep he’d already had.

“Why not try and formulate some sort of brilliant escape plan?” Khan suggested as he started packing up the chessboard and pieces, and not looking up to see Jim’s dropped jaw.

It took a few minutes for what Khan had said to register in Jim’s brain, but when it did, Jim couldn’t make any sense of it.

“Wait- what?”

Khan continued on in a casual voice, “Go on, try and escape. A lovely scheme – the daring escape of James Kirk, the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet, from his captors: the evil and cruel biological mistakes that the world wished it could forget. You’d make every news channel in the galaxy. A glittering hero – something new for the reporters to drool over.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want you to try and escape,” Khan remarked lightly, stowing the chessboard and pieces on a shelf just a few feet away.

“Yeah, I got that part. But why?” Jim asked.

“I want you to attempt to leave this vessel and return to your Enterprise because I want you to know how futile the effort is. Don’t you understand, Captain? There is no way off my ship, unless I allow you to go. You will remain here until I say otherwise,” Khan continued.

The way he spoke, though, was the most terrifying thing Jim had ever heard - there was no inflection, no emotion behind the words. Khan was speaking as if he were reading from a textbook; cold, hard fact fell from his lips like venom and Jim hated every second of it.

“I don’t...I don’t know how to respond to that.” Jim breathed, staring at the superhuman.

Khan stared him down for a few more horrible moments, pinning the captain where he stood. The sometimes-blue-sometimes-green irises were quicksilver and molten.

“I do,” Khan smirked, finally speaking like a person again.

“Of course you do.” 

“You’re coming to the bridge with me, Kirk.” The bridge? Why the bridge?

“What? Why?”

Suddenly, Khan was grabbing Jim’s arm and dragging him through the doorway of the rec room. Jim remembered that he should be watching his surroundings because he was, in fact, a prisoner who wished desperately to escape, and knowing the pathways to and from the bridge was a good idea.

“Oh, don’t worry, Kirk. Just a video call,” Khan said, still walking forward with Jim’s wrist in his – surprisingly gentle - grasp, at the same time removing his comm from his pocket to stare at it’s screen. Jim took a minute to marvel at the fact that Khan wasn’t watching where he was going at all - he navigated the twisting pathways of the Vengeance with ease, as if he’d been wandering through them his entire life.

“A video call?” Jim asked finally.

“Yes. Your friends have created an army to come get you, and they’ll be hailing us soon,” Khan commented as they finally came around the last corner and the door to the bridge swooshed open. There was a visible change on Khan’s face when he stepped inside. He seemed even more in his element than he usually was.

Which, of course, was completely stupid because Khan was always in his element and always searching for a way to use his situation to his advantage (and succeeding every time).

“Captain on the bridge!”

“Thank you, Victoria. Any news about Kirk’s armada?” Khan led Jim over to the captain’s chair and sat down in it, not releasing the blond’s wrist. He tapped away at the buttons on the chair’s arm.

“ETA two minutes, Sir.”

“Wonderful. Daelman, please keep a hold of our Starfleet captive while I speak with his friends,” Khan released Jim’s wrist so he could press buttons on his armrests with both hands.

Not a second after the pressure of Khan’s fingers was gone, Jim’s arms were pulled behind his back and he found himself being pulled firmly but gently over to the science station, behind an opaque screen at the right angle to both block the camera’s view from the viewing screen but also to let him see the viewing screen. He was pushed into a chair and a pair of handcuffs clasped around his wrists. Jim looked up to see Daelman’s apologetic smile beaming down at him.

“Now, Kirk, if you’d be a dear and remain silent I would greatly appreciate it,” Khan said distractedly.

“And why would I do that?” Jim asked in disbelief. If Khan thought he could get Jim to do anything he wanted, the augment had another thing coming.

“Kirk. You are aware of what I am capable of," Khan's voice dropped lower and he turned to look at Jim with a steely gaze. “I would make some sort of threat, but I believe your situation is quite clear to you.”

The message was definitely clear to Jim: Don't believe for one moment that I can't destroy your entire world.

Jim clenched his jaw and leaned back against the chair instead of replying. Jim did know what Khan was capable of. And Jim knew that not only would Khan destroy everything Jim held dear - he would enjoy doing it.

The bridge wasn’t nearly as tense as Jim had thought it would be – the crew members joked around with each other and laughed and smiled and actually seemed human and were happy, despite the fact that they were possibly about to be under attack by an enemy ship. And Khan, he was smiling, too. The pilot (Victoria, Jim’s mind supplied. Khan had called her Victoria) said something snarky to the augment, who playfully retaliated and chuckled.

It took Jim a moment, but he realized that the scene before him looked almost exactly like what his own bridge looked like. The colors were different, and the technology was more advanced, but the people, and the way they interacted with each other…Jim almost expected Uhura and Spock to come striding through the doors, holding hands.

Then Jim remembered that Admiral Marcus had been vying to kill every member of Khan’s crew – every member of the family that Jim was observing. It made him slightly sick to his stomach. How could anyone actually wish to end seventy-three lives? People who protected each other and stuck together no matter what was thrown at them, murdered without a second thought.

“You could have destroyed me and the rest of the crew so easily… I’d just like to say thank you. On behalf of everyone… The captain is grateful to you, too.”

At the time, Jim hadn’t been paying much attention to what Daelman was saying (who could blame him, though? He was a captive on a huge battle ship, he had other things on his mind) but now he winced at the words.

Jim watched the goings-on of the bridge until someone called out, “Captain Singh, we have incoming.”

Khan was immediately back in captain mode, all humor gone, “How many ships approximately?”

“Seventy-eight, Captain. All are fitted with weapons.” Seventy-eight ships. Seventy-fucking-eight ships. What the hell was going to happen to this ship? Surely there was no way the Vengeance could get away unscathed.

“Estimated chance of survival should this come to blows?” Oh, this should be good.

“Ninety-eight percent.” What? Where on earth did that figure come from? Were the capabilities of this ship really so impressive?

“Lovely,” Khan replied. “Ready the warheads, arm phasers, and be prepared to warp at my command.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Running away? Jim almost asked, but bit his tongue as he remembered his promise from earlier.

The final seconds ticked away and an armada snapped out of warp just in front of the viewing screen.

“Captain, we’re being hailed.”

“On screen, if you would.” Khan crossed his legs and leaned to the side of his chair, the picture of arrogance.

When the furious face of Jim’s First Officer appeared on the screen, Jim felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. There were bags under Spock’s eyes, his mouth was set in a grim line, and his usually immaculate hair was ruffled and uncombed. Perhaps to an outsider, Spock appeared mildly agitated, but to Jim…to Jim, the Vulcan appeared as if his world were ending. It was obvious that he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

“Hello, again, Mr. Spock. Long time, no see,” Khan mocked from his chair, forming a steeple with his fingers just in front of his mouth, “How have you been doing lately? You’ve put together quite a large, rag-tag group of ships just for me – I should be flattered.”

“Khan Noonien Singh, this is your final warning. Surrender now, or I will be required to utilize deadly force on your vessel,” Spock ground out, brown eyes hard. He was glaring at the screen now; glaring at the picture of the criminal who had the gall to laugh at his threat.

“Now, now, Spock, you wouldn’t want to do anything rash. We’ve been over this before, haven’t we? It was yesterday, or perhaps the day before – you cannot harm my ship without killing your captain,” Khan remarked. He his tiny smile was filled with mirth.

“How do I know he’s still alive for you to hide behind?” Spock demanded, looking more than a little pale at the idea that Jim might not be alive.

“No need to worry, Mr. Spock. He’s alive, and quite well, really. Besides, why would I kill him? He provides me with a great deal of entertainment,” Khan purred.

Outraged, Jim opened his mouth to speak. Daelman clapped his hand over it with a whispered ‘sorry’ in Jim’s ear.

Jim watched in silence as Spock flushed green with rage and a snarl twisted his lips.

“Oh my, have I hit a nerve? I wasn’t aware that Vulcans had pressure points, and especially not centered around humans,” Khan cocked his head to the side. “Anyway, run along, Mr. Spock, before I do something that will cause you and your little team a great deal of pain.”

Spock reigned his emotions back in and spoke coldly in reply.

“You are outnumbered,” Spock said, “your only choice is to surrender.”

“Oh, the weapons and warp capabilities of this ship beg to differ, Spock. I could annihilate your entire troupe in front of your eyes and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing to stop me. Don’t think for one moment that I won’t, either,” Khan declared. He turned to his pilot. “Victoria, give me manual control of the turrets.”

“Switching turrets to manual, Sir. They are prepped and ready to go.”

“What are you doing?” Spock asked, seeing Khan tap at his armrests, a tiny bubble of panic rising in him.

“Just proving a point,” Khan replied. A huge red crosshairs appeared on the viewing screen. The center hovered over the Enterprise tauntingly for a moment before moving slightly to the left and targeting a smaller ship. Khan didn’t even hesitate for a second once he had the ship in his sights. He fired two bolts at it and watched with a tiny smile as the ship exploded easily. When Spock didn’t flinch at the destruction, Khan raised his eyebrow. “You see, Mr. Spock? Very easy. Very quick. Do you even care? No, you don’t. The only thing you care about is your captain, who I currently have. You don’t care about people, but James Tiberius Kirk is an exception. You love him, don’t you?” Love him? Spock couldn’t love him. There was no way; Spock was going out with Uhura! Jim didn’t even know Spock liked guys!

“Captain Singh, twenty vessels are locking torpedoes.”

“Violet, it’s no issue, I assure you,” Khan turned his attention back to Spock. “You even brought all of these people here – to their deaths – just to make sure you got him back. You’d do anything in the world, wouldn’t you? Even sacrifice every last one of them?” Sacrifice them? All of them? No, Spock wouldn’t do a thing like that; it was absolutely impossible.

Jim felt his heart sinking into his stomach when Spock didn’t deny it. The Vulcan stayed quiet. Would Spock really do that? Would Spock really cause that much death just to get to him?

“You’ve seen just a tidbit of what I can do, and I know it terrified you. There will be no capture of me, or my vessel today, so why don’t you run along? Off you pop, Mr. Spock. Give Starfleet my regards,” Khan waved a hand dismissively at Spock’s pissed off face.

“I will reclaim my captain, Khan. Mark my words,” Spock spat heatedly. The bridge crew of the Enterprise seemed very wary of their acting captain. Jim felt like he was going to throw up.

“Oh, Spock. You still don’t understand,” Khan moved the crosshairs across the screen again, firing the turret once more. “That wonderful planet that your people are calling ‘New Vulcan?’ That big blue planet that your mother called ‘home?’ I know where to find entire systems that hate Vulcans, and hate humans. I know exactly how to speak to them so that they’ll do what I want them to. You’ll be imprisoned, because it’ll be your fault that you didn’t turn back,” Khan’s statement was punctuated by a rather monstrous ship warping out of the area “and you’ll never see your precious captain again. Those are the circumstances, Spock. What will you do?”

Jim noticed the space around his ship with a choked sob. 

The Enterprise was alone.

~!@#$%^&*()*&^%$#@!~

“Spock, the rest of the fleet is gone,” Uhura called from her station. Gone? How can they be gone?

“What do you mean, the rest of the fleet is gone?”

“Captain Spock, the Vengeance is locking phasers-” Shit shit shit shit shit what do I do?

“Every single ship that came here with us – turned back as soon as the firing started. We’re alone, Spock. We should leave.” Uhura said in shock. “Spock, we need to leave. Please, Spock!” The Vulcan didn’t answer her. “Spock!”

Spock bent forward, breathing raggedly with his hands clenched about the armrests of Jim’s chair. We have to leave Jim again? We have to leave him all alone in the hands of that mad man? Why? Why? He shook with fury, and Uhura stepped back a few paces. Yes, stay far away from me before I take all my anger out on you instead of that- that-

“Plot a course back to Earth,” Spock muttered. And don’t question me or I will rip your head off-

“Sir?” Sulu asked.

“Plot a course back to Earth, now!” The Vulcan shouted. Sulu flinched and scrambled to do as he asked. Before I change my mind.

Khan smirked at him and spoke easily. “Goodbye, Mr. Spock. We won’t be seeing each other again.” Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up I’ll end your pathetic existence with my bare hands you coward-

“Just shut up, and let my ship leave in peace,” Spock snarled.

“Oh, it burns you to have come so close, doesn’t it?” Khan mocked from his end. 

Why don’t you come closer so I can murder you-

“Ready to warp.” Control control control control control control maintain control -

“Warp seven.” Just get me the hell away from here before I lose it -

“Engaged.” I will save you, Jim. I will. I promise.

The Enterprise fled in silence.

)(*&^%$#@!@#$%^&*()

Even though Daelman had taken his hand off of Jim’s mouth, Jim stayed silent. He shook with sobs that he refused to let free and he could feel wetness flowing down his cheeks. He stared at the debris that littered the space just outside of the viewing screen with growing upset.

“Well, that was productive!” Khan exclaimed merrily, strange eyes alight. “Who knew it would be that much fun?”

The rest of the bridge crew high-fived and chattered amongst themselves and it was all making Jim just a little bit nauseas. He stood from his chair and held out his wrists for Daelman to unlock the cuffs. The blond augment did so quietly with another muttered ‘I’m sorry about all this,’ but Jim didn’t hear him.

Jim turned away from the happy scene on the bridge and made his way back to his room, trying not to vomit.

He missed Khan’s triumphant stare as he watched Jim leave.


	4. Chapter 4

A huge stack of papers was slammed down on the cold metal table in front of Spock’s face. He stared unseeingly at it for a minute before peering up at Admiral Archer, who seemed very agitated.

“1,298 people, Spock. 1,298 people were murdered in that attack. You were leading that strike, and _1_ , _298_ people were killed. What the _fuck_ were you thinking? You didn’t even fire on his ship! You didn’t even try! Your communications officer had to practically _beg_ you to back down!

You were reckless, you were stupid, you-” Archer’s hand fell right next to the stack. Spock focused long enough to notice that they were death certificates. The one on top was someone named James T. Krane. Spock’s eye twitched. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I am listening, Admiral.”

Archer rubbed a hand through his graying hair tiredly and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He didn’t look nearly as tired as Spock felt.

“Look, Spock, I know you want to get Captain Kirk back and stop Khan. I understand that, truly, I do. But this has gotten too far out of hand for any more hesitation. The death toll is just too high now. I’m sending out a platoon of very talented weapon specialists and they’re going to locate and destroy the _Vengeance_ , whether or not James Kirk is still onboard.” Archer said grimly.

Spock was suddenly much more alert. “You are going to what?”

“I’m sorry, Spock. I am. We just can’t take the risk of letting him escape from another confrontation – it’s too dangerous.”

“So you’ll just let my- the Captain die?”

“Legally, he already is dead. According to the report your First Officer submitted concerning the events of yesterday, there was no actual proof of James’s state of being. The paperwork went through this morning – he’s been declared dead _in absentia_. You’ve been promoted to captain of the _Enterprise_.”

The more Admiral Archer spoke, the sicker Spock felt. “Admiral, I must ask you to reconsider-”

“I’m sorry, truly. The decision that has been made is the _logical_ one, and the platoon will be sent out in two days’ time. Meanwhile, you will be escorted to a holding cell in San Francisco until the platoon has left the exosphere.” Archer stood and knocked twice on the interrogation room door to signal the officers waiting outside.

Spock tensed and waited until the two human guards were inside the room to make his move. He stood from his chair, yanked his wrists apart sharply to snap the handcuffs, and reached out to pinch nerves in the guards’ necks while they were still surprised.

Archer was about to call for help when Spock glared at him with such intensity that he closed his mouth sharply and his hands dropped to his sides.

“Admiral Archer, if you value the lives of your officers, do not send them after me. I formally resign my position as a captain. Goodbye.” Spock turned and sprinted out the door and down the hallway, snagging a cap from some passing ensign’s head and catching the elevator doors just as they were about to close.

He’d made it outside just as the facility’s alarms began to blare, declaring that a prisoner had escaped. He paid no attention to the alarms.

Spock had a ship to hijack.

(((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))

Jim imagined he was a pretty sorry sight. There were tear tracks on his face and his eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He was sitting curled up on the bed with a pillow hugged to his chest and his stomach and head hurt from crying. If anyone who knew him had seen him, they most likely wouldn’t even have recognized him.

There was no audible thrum of the ship’s engines in the walls, like there was on the _Enterprise_ , and the entire place just seemed to scream cold and death. Jim knew they were at warp, because of the little tremors that ran through the floor, but he couldn’t bring himself to care where they were going. Away, probably. As far away as they could manage.

Jim didn’t sit in the room (he refused to call it his room – it was most certainly not his room, and he actually felt a bit embarrassed for saying it was earlier) for very long before the door opened with a swish and First Officer Daelman walked in.

The blonde closed the door behind him and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting a little bit. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Jim, I-”

Jim ground his teeth, “Don’t call me that. You have _no_ right to – !” He got up from his seat and moved to stand in front of the First Officer, flushed with rage.

“I’m sorry!” Daelman put his hands up in front of him, eyes wide. “I’m so very, very sorry! I know that was hard for you, I do! Trust me, I know.”

“Why should I listen to anything you have so say? You let your captain destroy two ships. You let him _murder_ innocent people. They had _families_! They had _friends_! They had their entire lives ahead of them! Children are going to have to grow up without parents and brothers and sisters and moms and dads are going to cry at funerals and it’s like you _don’t even care_!” Jim’s fist was caught just a few inches from Daelman’s face.

“Mr. Kirk, please! You have to understand! Captain Singh only blew up those ships because he had to,” Daelman exclaimed as he released Jim’s hand.

“He _had_ to?” Jim choked out in disbelief, “You mean to tell me that he couldn’t have just avoided the confrontation altogether? He dragged me by my arm to the bridge and he knew that they were coming. He could’ve warped away fast enough to keep all of this from happening, but he stayed and killed people _for fun_!”

“The captain doesn’t kill for fun!” Daelman shouted, his green eyes filled with anger, “You don’t get it! He was trying to keep the _Vengeance_ safe! He was trying to keep all of us safe! Including you!”

“Safe? You call this _safe_? I’m a prisoner on this fucking ship, and sometime soon, Starfleet _will_ catch up to it. They will destroy this goddamn thing and all of us with it, and you think we’re safe? What are you _on_?”

“He also spared your friends, and scared them away so that he wouldn’t have to kill the rest of them. And because they ran, Captain Singh was able to get us to safety. He saved more lives than he ended, Kirk, I swear,” Daelman added.

Jim let out a huge breath and turned away from the augment. The anger drained away from his face and he rubbed a hand over his mouth and through his hair and he sat down on his bed again.

“Why is he keeping me here?” Jim asked quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“Your captain! Why is he keeping me here? What could he possibly gain from this? He can’t have kept me just to invite me to dinner and kick my ass at chess and confuse me with his crypticness and piss me off with whatever he says. I just don’t understand.”

There was a very long and very pregnant pause during which Daelman crossed the room and sat down next to Jim on his bed. The augment scratched the back of his head for a minute before sighing heavily and replying.

“Mr. Kirk, I don’t presume to know all of my captain’s motives – to do so would be very ignorant of me, and Captain Singh hates ignorance – but I do know that the way he looks at you…it’s like nothing I’ve seen cross his face before. You must know, Mr. Kirk, that our captain will do whatever he can to protect us and he loves us as if we were his family, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone that way before. In fact, I don’t think that he ever has. Maybe that’s why he decided to keep you,” Daelman explained, staring hard at the ceiling. He abruptly stood and made his way to the door, throwing over his shoulder, “The offer to join everyone in the mess hall still stands, but I must warn you – we’re celebrating.”

The way the door slid closed sounded very final and hollow in Jim’s ears. He flopped back on the bed and counted the lines on the ceiling for a while until his stomach growled. There was absolutely _no_ way he was going down to the mess hall to sit awkwardly while people celebrated their victory and the end of what must have been more than a thousand lives, so he went over to the replicator again and had his meal in his room, instead.

As he sat and moped about in various positions around the room, he had a sudden idea.

“Computer?” He called.

“Yes?” The speaker on the wall answered in a mechanical tone.

“What security clearance do I have?”

“Clearance class 6A.”

“Fantastic. Show me the schematics of the ship.” Jim demanded. There was a huge smile on his face.

When a holographic model of the Vengeance appeared in the center of the room, Jim was delighted.

“Show me where the escape shuttles are.”

Jim was getting off this damn ship.

(((((((((((()))))))))))))

Jim didn’t know exactly how long he spent planning his daring escape when he realized that he was playing exactly into Khan’s hands. Khan expected him to make a huge show out of escaping. Khan expected him to make a lot of noise and cause a lot of damage and make a mess on his way out.

He stopped what he was doing and he stepped away from the keyboard of the computer.

“Computer, highlight all of the air ducts and security cameras.” Jim commanded.

He knew he had to be sneaky instead of the ‘take-a-hostage-and-make-my-way-through-the-hallways-to-the-escape-shuttles’ plan that he’d been concocting. He figured a virus could take out the security cameras near the air ducts, and from there it would be easy to make it to an escape shuttle.

But then of course there was the question of how long it would take Jim to generate a computer virus complex enough to take out the security system of an armed-to-the-teeth combat spaceship. The virus he’d used to take down the Kobayashi Maru** had taken two months to complete, and he’d had it checked over by at least three different computer hackers before he’d even tried to use it.

He worked on the coding of the virus until the computer’s built-in clock read 0300 hours and his eyes burned when he blinked them. Jim then saved what he’d finished and stumbled over to his bed.

“Computer, decrease lights to 5%,” Jim ordered, his arm thrown over his face. The lights went low and Jim rolled over onto his right side. He stared at the wall for a few minutes before closing his eyes and tried to relax.

Sleep didn’t come easily to Jim that night. He tossed and turned and did his best to get comfortable, but his room seemed too quiet. He could practically hear his own blood rushing in his ears. He finally managed to drift off around 0400.

Apparently, though, the days on the Vengeance started very early. The red numbers on the chronometer read 0800 when the sound of the door opening jolted Jim out of his shallow rest.

“Mr. Kirk, Captain Singh requests your presence for breakfast in the Mess Hall.”

The room was almost black and the huge chink of light from the corridor almost blinded him, but Jim still managed to spot an unfamiliar guard-looking guy standing at the entrance to his room.

“Riiiiiiight. And I’m guessing that if I don’t accept, I’ll get taken to a tiny room and have my head kicked in?” Jim asked while he sat up squinting against the bright whiteness that fell fortuitously across his face.

“My instructions were to escort you to the Mess Hall if you accepted the invitation, and to leave you to your own devices if you refused it,” the guard said.

An invitation, Jim pondered. Invitation. What a polite thing to do. As tired as he was, Jim still managed to get extremely angry. Murder people and then invite your prisoner to breakfast, a standard practice aboard the Vengeance, apparently.

“You can tell Khan he can shove his _invitation_ up his ass!” Jim spat, turning away from the still-open door.

“I’ll let him know you’ve refused,” the guard said, and exited without another word. Behind him, the door slid closed and Jim went back to sleep.

The captain, of course, was amused about the whole thing. When the guard arrived at the Mess Hall and told Khan that Kirk had refused to leave his room for breakfast with the crew, Khan could tell he was holding something back. He asked for what Kirk had said verbatim, and laughed aloud when the guard managed to say it with a blank face. 

“Smith, I’d like you to try again in two days,” Khan ordered, sobering slightly as he picked at his eggs.

“Yes, Sir,” Smith nodded, leaving to find his own breakfast.

Khan smiled slightly to himself. This was going to be even more entertaining than he’d originally thought. 

(((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))

Smith returned to Jim’s room two days later, whereupon he made the offer of breakfast once more. To his immense surprise, Kirk accepted and asked for a few minutes to have a shower and change his clothes.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Kirk,” the guard replied, and exited the room to let Jim have some privacy.

While Jim was taking what must have been the fastest shower of his entire life, he contemplated what exactly he was about to do. Was he really going to go to breakfast and have conversation with a ruthless and merciless killer who would most likely end up killing him, too? He was. God help him, for the sake of his escape, Jim was.

His shower done and his body clothed once more, Jim walked out through his door. His hands twitched slightly, so he clasped them behind his back and tried to seem as in-control as he could.

“If you’d follow me, Mr. Kirk?” Smith gestured with a tilt of his head and started to walk down the hall. The pair of them journeyed briefly before the guard stopped in front of what seemed to be a random set of doors.

Jim looked a little bit more closely at the doors and realized that there was a placard just to the left of them that proclaimed ‘Mess Hall.’ He followed the guard through the entrance and was lead right to a picnic-style table at which sat both Khan and Daelman, discussing something that was probably extremely important, judging by the tense, low voices they were using. Jim decided at the very last moment to transform his anxiety into confidence.

“Gooooooooood morning, boys!” Jim interrupted unabashedly, shaking off the hand that the guard tried to restrain him with. He plopped himself down right next to Daelman and stole a replicated sausage off of his tray and viciously bit it in half.

There was a momentary pause in the low buzz of chatter that had been filling the eatery. At least twenty people turned their heads to look curiously at Jim before shrugging and going back to eating and talking.

“Good morning, Mr. Kirk. I trust you slept well?” Daelman asked with a strained smile.

“No, actually, I did not,” Jim replied bluntly, a huge fake grin stretching across his face. “But the night’s over, now isn’t it? How did you sleep, _Captain Singh_?” He turned to Khan with a raised eyebrow. Much to Jim’s disappointment, the captain of the Augments seemed unruffled.

“I slept very well, Kirk. Thank you for your concern," Khan replied. He was picking apart what might once have been a bagel but now was an almost unrecognizable pile of bread, not eating any of it.

Jim tried to ignore it, he really did, but he couldn't help but notice that Khan was quite thin. He was muscled and very fit, but he still looked thin. Underweight. Dangerously so.

"How's the escape plan going?" Khan asked nonchalantly.

Jim almost choked on the second half of the sausage he was chewing. "I'm sorry, _what_?" How could Khan know about what Jim had been planning? He'd stored that file in a secure folder!

"Your escape plan? I assumed you were stupid enough to respond to my challenge from the other day. You did spend an awfully long time in your quarters," Khan took up a bottle of water and took a swig, keeping his eyes on Jim. 

Jim tried hard to think on his feet, but it was difficult with those odd eyes boring into his.

"That was a challenge? I thought it was a threat."

"Very good, Kirk. Only idiots would have taken that any other way. I'm so very glad you're not one of them," Khan flashed him a menacing grin, stood from his seat at the table, and started to make his way out of the Mess Hall. "I'm going to relieve Gamma Shift. I'll see you sometime later, Kirk. Remember what we discussed, First Officer Daelman."

"Yes, Sir." Daelman replied, looking more than a little tense. The blond turned to Jim and smiled a little. 

"Some invitation to breakfast that was," Jim grumbled, "The guy barely says two words to me and then all of a sudden he has to rush off to the bridge! Rude, that's what that is!" Jim was babbling horribly and probably sounded like a complete idiot.

“The captain is an odd man, Mr. Kirk. He doesn’t take too kindly to being denied what he wants, no matter how small the request. Now, I’m supposed to be taking you to the Med Bay,” Daelman smiled, standing up and gesturing for Jim to follow him. 

The captain huffed, still reeling a little from his confrontation. He snagged a waffle off of Daelman’s half-empty tray and stuffed his face on the way to the Vengeance’s Med Bay.

“So why the Med Bay?” Jim asked as soon as his mouth was empty. 

“As genetically modified human beings, myself and the rest of the crew are immune to many of the ailments that one might encounter when traveling through space. You - as an ordinary human being, and one allergic to a very wide range of chemicals and compounds and fruit, apparently - are not immune to those ailments, and so the captain expressed his concern for your well-being. I volunteered to escort you to the Med Bay to see that you are vaccinated.” Daelman explained.

Jim forgot himself for a moment and blurted, “Why answer me like that? You could have anything done to me at the Med Bay - put poison in my veins or something normal like that -  and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”

The First Officer stopped suddenly, frowning. Jim didn’t notice until he was a few paces ahead, but when he did he turned and looked at Daelman with a raised brow.

“Mr. Kirk, I don’t think you understand. We’re not cruel by nature. How exactly does Starfleet treat its prisoners?”

Jim didn’t have an answer for that. The two of them made it to the Med Bay in a matter of moments, and Jim was lead to a chair where he was instructed to sit and wait while Daelman went to fetch the nurse.

The nurse was a very pretty young lady with hair the color of fire and dark skin. She smiled brightly at Jim while she was preparing each syringe and explained to him what exactly each one of them did.

“This light blue one is an immune system booster...this dark orange one is a vaccine against Parinisti measles...this dark red one is a…” and so on and so forth. Needle after needle was pushed through Jim’s skin and compound after weakened pathogen was injected into his bloodstream.

“Now, there can be some side-effects of these, of course,” the nurse said after she had put the needles into a disposal unit.

Jim snapped back to attention. “Side effects? What kind?”

“Normal ones - dizziness, light-headedness, acute pain at the injection site, things like that,” the nurse smiled. “Please have someone either take you here or make your way here if you have anything more extreme than the effects I just listed.” She bustled Jim and Daelman out of the Med Bay very quickly, and Jim’s remaining questions died on his lips. Acute pain? Dizziness? As far as side-effects go, those seemed just a bit extreme.

 The pair of them entered the hallway again and Jim was stunned by the brightness. The Med Bay had been rather dim, actually - only one station had been lit up, and the nurse’s superhuman eyes didn’t need as much light as normal humans’ eyes would have. In the hall, though, it was much too bright, and Jim’s corneas stung. He batted his eyelids rapidly and rubbed at them with his fingers.

“Are you feeling okay?” Daelman asked, placing a hand on Jim’s shoulder. 

Jim couldn’t concentrate on any one place on the floor. He felt like he was going to throw up, and the air around him seemed too loud.

“Sure, yeah. I’m fine. Just...jussst need t-to ge….t to mmmyyyy rrroooommm,” Jim slurred. He swayed dangerously back and forth before pitching forward and blacking out.   


	5. Chapter 5

“Our guest is still recovering?” Khan asked through his comm as he made his way down to the brig to visit his new prisoner.

Things had been very pleasant aboard the ship for around three days after Kirk had received his ‘vaccines’ until an incident with a small space cruiser had spurred a lot of buzz. It had fired upon the Vengeance twice and caused major - but reparable - damage to the hull near the lower decks. Khan had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who the pilot of the cruiser was.

“Yes, Sir. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet,” Daelman replied.

“Wonderful. Keep it that way,” Khan demanded, “I have a pest to deal with.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Khan reached the access pad next to the door of the brig and tapped in a code. Once he set foot inside, he noticed two of his crew managing the large circular security desk in the center of the huge rom.

“Give me a moment with the prisoner, please,” Khan commanded gently. Smith and Reyner stood, saluted, and left, joking amongst themselves as they walked down the hall. The reinforced doors shut with a large whoosh and the sliding of several bolts into place.

“Are you going to kill me, Khan? Like you killed all of the people on those ships? Even though I may not be on the best terms with the Federation, I doubt they’d take too kindly to the murder of a member of an endangered species.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Mr. Spock. Not yet, anyway. ‘Endangered species’ is certainly correct, though I’m sure the Vulcan race will thrive again, eventually. After all, your Pon Farr keeps your numbers at just the right spot, doesn’t it?” Khan asked lightly as he moved to stand right in front of Spock’s glass cell.

Spock’s eyes widened almost comically. “I do not know where you obtained information about that subject, but -”

“And,” Khan interrupted, “your mating cycle in particular is coming up quite soon, is it not?”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“Your irrational behavior as of late? Your bouts of anger, and illogical decisions? I know you are only a half-Vulcan,” Khan paused, smiling a little, “but is it really so much of a stretch that you share the same biological functions as real Vulcans?”

Spock ignored the biting remark and blinked slowly, letting the information process. “You believe my recent actions are symptoms of Pon Farr?”

“Yes, Mr. Spock. Yes, I do.”

“You know exactly what will happen to me if you allow it to run its course without intervention.”

“Yes, I do.”

Spock met Khan’s eyes, and found no trace of concern - only blue chips of ice, cold and indifferent. “What will you do, Khan?”

“I will observe the effects that the Blood Fever has on a specimen with half the normal amount of Vulcan DNA. I believe it will prove to be very interesting,” Khan turned on his heel and left the brig. He ran into Smith and Reyner a few paces down the hall. “Alright, return to your posts, gentlemen. And please have MO Nelson place Mr. Spock under close observation.”

“Yes, Sir,” Smith answered.

“Captain Singh, James Kirk is displaying signs of waking.” Khan heard from his comm.

“Do his vitals compare to the standard?” Khan asked. He waited with bated breath for his First Officer’s answer.

“Cardiovascular is a match, but brain activity seems slightly off.”

“What do you mean ‘off’?”

“Brainwaves are halfway between his old patterns and the ideal.”

Khan grinned a little manically and replied easily, “Not done cooking yet, then. My day continues to improve, Daelman. Wake him up; we need to break the news.”

“What of the pest, Sir?”

“Not to worry - the exterminator will be arriving within the week.”

“Very good, Sir.”

(((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))

Slowly, Jim slipped back into the waking world, where he was greeted by loud, steady beeps that accelerated ever so slightly when he realized that he couldn’t feel any of his limbs. Jim managed to turn his head enough to see several IV bags drip drip dripping into the tube that attached to the back of his hand. He had that awful cotton feeling in the back of his mouth.

“Sorry about that, Kirk.” Khan was tapping the regulator of Jim’s IV to make sure the liquid was flowing properly. “But we can’t have you moving around too much.”

“Ugh,” Jim groaned. He felt like he’d been hit by a freight train, but he knew he couldn’t stay like this. He tried his hardest to yank the IV out of his hand, but cold fingers stopped him.

“Wha-” Jim tried, but his speech was thick and slow. He blinked when he couldn’t get any more words past his teeth.

“What’s happening? I’m glad you asked. You’ve had an adverse reaction to the vaccines you received. We’ve been giving you some steroids for your fever and fluids to hydrate you, but at this state muscular and nerve damage are real dangers. We’ve been keeping you under to keep . I decided to wake you and explain what was going on. If you understand what I’m saying to you please squeeze my hand.” Khan’s cool hand found Jim’s own, and Jim willed his fingers to move. His muscles trembled with the strain.

“Sir?” The doors swooshed open to reveal First Officer Daelman, carrying a large and intimidating needle attached to a syringe. “CMO Scott has prepared the final dose of ABA12.”

“Good. Please administer it now.” Khan released Jim’s hand and stood back.

With the deftness born only of repeated action, Daelman slipped the needle into the shunt stuck in a huge blue vein on the back of Jim’s hand.

“This is the last round of chemical assistance you’ll need to get over the last bit of the effects of those vaccines, Kirk. I warn you, though, you will fall unconscious again. When all of your vitals are normal, you’ll wake back up and you can go on with your merry ways.” Khan explained.

“Nnnnnn-” Jim attempted to speak once more and was hushed gently by the blonde officer who was pushing the plunger of the syringe down. Jim wanted to protest. He wanted to thrash about and yell and cuss, but he was just so tired. His entire world was fuzzy.

“Trust me, Kirk. This is most definitely for your own good,” Daelman said. He smiled when the syringe was empty and patted Jim on the knee. “See you when you wake up.” Daelman left just as abruptly as he’d arrived, leaving Jim alone with Khan for the last few moments of his consciousness.

Khan, who stared hard at Jim for a beat or two before standing. “I’m going to dial up your morphine. You won’t want to feel what this stuff will be doing, even if you are asleep.” Jim could hear the unspoken ‘trust me, I know’ even as his eyelids started to slide closed and his head went all fuzzy again.

But Jim could’ve sworn for a brief moment - not that he’d ever even consider bringing it up in any way, shape, or form in the presence of the Augment - that just as the murky water of slumber flooded through his senses, a soft hand pushed the messy hair from his forehead, followed shortly by the press of cool lips to his own.

Then again, maybe he was too drugged up to tell.

((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))

“You misunderstand me, Captain Reese,” Khan pleaded as sincerely as he could manage, “I do not wish for any more violence or death. I am merely making you an offer. The return of a member of an almost extinct race of people for the continued safety of this vessel and her crew.”

The captain of a highly trained armada of certified specialists? Khan scoffed inwardly. She couldn’t even tell when another ship was readying weapons-

“I’m afraid that’s not my mission here, Singh,” Reese replied, her mouth settled into a frown. The bags under her eyes were huge, as if she hadn’t slept in days. Reese was obviously exhausted.

Even as Khan spoke, he observed. “Yes, I am aware. Your mission was, no doubt, to destroy this ship and everyone on it. But is that really who you are, Captain Reese? Really?” Khan asked softly, “Could you do it? Would you kill seventy-five people on orders from a man you’ve never even met? I know I wouldn’t,” Khan set his hand on his heart and stared at the screen, seemingly seeking mercy.

Lies, Khan thought. Lies, lies, lies. But she’ll believe it. And just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes. The timer visible on the screen was slowly ticking down.

“Sorry, Singh. I’ve been warned about you. Archer found Marcus’s old files about you, and they detailed all of your tricks. You can’t manipulate me, Khan. I’m not as stupid as you think I am,” Reese smirked. “Prepare to fire!” She called out to her bridge crew. There was a flurry of motion aboard the Bastille.

“Captain, they’re locking missiles,” Scarlett Moore declared, looking up from her station to meet Khan’s eyes and giving him an ever-so-slight nod. Everything was in place

“Yes, you’re absolutely right,” Khan admitted to Reese, grinning when the timer got down to ten seconds, “you’re not as stupid as I thought you were - you are infinitely more so.” The numbers ran down to zero and Khan turned to Daelman, “Fire.”

“Yes, Sir.” Eighty missiles shot out of the torpedo tubes and started on their paths to the various ships.

There was a moment of bright confusion on Reese’s face before she realized what exactly was happening, and by that time, it was too late. Confusion gave way to panic and terror - she’d seen the missile. “Raise shields! For God’s sake, raise shields!” She shrieked, bracing herself against her arm rests and activating her seat belt with fumbling fingers. “All decks, prepare for massive damage-!”

“Goodbye, Captain Reese. I’m sorry you didn’t take me up on my offer - I really don’t like dealing with things like this,” Khan said truthfully. He wasn’t very fond of short-range nuclear warheads, but at least they got the job done.

Reese’s once-sleepy brown eyes were wide and wild, as if she were looking for some shred of humanity in Khan - something that might get him to help her. Khan even met her eyes directly. He grinned as awfully as anything Reese had ever seen.

The pressure waves of seventy-nine simultaneous explosions rocked the Vengeance slightly as the missiles found their marks.

“You-!” Reese gasped, and then the missile hit the Bastille.

“I’m sorry,” Khan said to the remains of the platoon, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))

The next time Jim woke up, he was definitely much more coherent. He sat up slowly, wary of a head rush after lying down for so long, but he had absolutely no problems. In fact, he noticed as he was flexing all of his fingers and toes to test them, he had no soreness or weakness in any of his limbs at all. It was almost as if he’d never even been confined to the hospital bed.

He shifted around warily, glancing down at his hands to see if the shunt was still there, but it was gone. In its place was a small piece of gauze and some tape, presumably, to keep it there. Jim stood from his bed with no small measure of caution and walked right out the door of his room to the main Med Bay.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Kirk!” A tall, unfamiliar man was walking toward Jim, clipboard in hand, smiling widely. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Uh...hi,” Jim said. He gripped the hand that the man held out and shook it firmly twice. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name…”

“Ray Scott, Chief Medical Officer,” the man said with a grin. “I’m going to run a few tests on you just to make sure that all of your bits and pieces are working okay before I let you out of my Med Bay, okay?”

It seemed almost like Ray’s good mood was infectious, and for a minute Jim found himself wondering why Bones had to be so pissed off all the time. He grinned back at Ray, unable to contain it, because honestly he seemed like such a good guy and who wouldn’t smile back at him?

“Let’s get started,” Jim said brightly.

Ray Scott was, as Jim discovered, very rigorous and extremely thorough when he said that he was going to make sure that all of Jim’s ‘bits and pieces’ were working; Jim finally got some real clothing and left the Med Bay feeling a bit violated an hour and a half later. He felt jittery and almost too full of energy, yet he was ravenous.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jim had navigated his way to the Mess Hall and ate a large meal at one of the tables near the door, his back facing the wall. Jim finished the last of his carrots and realized that he was still hungry, so he made his way to get more food. He was just sitting down at his table again when the door of the Hall opened, and Daelman came striding in purposefully, looking around the room until his eyes found Jim. His face erupted in a grin.

“Good morning, Kirk!” Daelman exclaimed. He sat himself down across from Jim and continued, “It’s good to see you up and about! You gave us quite a fright!”

“Us?” Jim mumbled. His mouth was full of synthesized mashed potatoes.

“Well, the captain was concerned, of course. And Nurse Kyrie was worried about you, too.” Daelman reached across the table and picked a piece of bread off of Jim’s plate.

“She’s the one who gave me the vaccines, right?” JIm asked absently. The captain was concerned. Khan was concerned. That was odd. Jim’s muscles felt itchy, and he started fidgeting with the edge of the table.

“The very same,” Daelman replied. He noticed Jim’s hands fumbling at the corner of the metal table and thought for a moment before saying, “Would you like to come spar with me?”

“Spar?” As in a mock-fight? Something to make Jim’s goddamn muscles stop itching-

“Yes. You look like you have a bit of excess energy there, Kirk. Do you want to burn some of it?”

“Well...I don’t know. Aren’t you about five times stronger than I am?” Kirk asked nervously. The corner of the table started bending underneath his grip and he didn’t notice. “Won’t you just, I don’t know, break my arm like a twig or something?”

“Don’t worry, Kirk,” Daelman soothed with a smile, “I think you’re stronger than you look.”

Jim bit his lip. “Okay. I’ll go for a spar with you.”

The two left the Mess Hall and the hand-shaped dents in the table behind and started for the rec room.

((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))

Jim absently remembered when he had been reluctant to accept the invitation to go sparring, and wondered why. He stared at Daelman, who had changed into a pair of light sweatpants and a tank top, across the sparring mat and waited. He bounced on the balls of his feet, anxious and anticipating a good fight.

Daelman, unsurprisingly, threw the first punch. His fist smacked against Jim’s face and Jim cringed backwards, afraid of the pain. When none came, Jim was pleasantly surprised. He lunged forward in the hope of catching Daelman off guard, but the other blonde twisted out of his way with ease.

The officer struck another blow, this time to Jim’s rib cage. The captain could have sworn that he heard something cracking, but no pain accompanied it. Jim tried to retaliate to the hit, but again Daelman dodged.

Their sparring session continued in this manner until Daelman’s hand flashed forward like a cobra’s strike, but this time Jim caught it before it could land. He used the momentum and power that Daelman had put behind his punch to flip the officer over Jim’s shoulder and onto the ground with a thud.

Jim let go of Daelman’s wrist and made to brace himself on his knees, but found that he didn’t really need to; Jim wasn’t tired at all. The muscle itchiness was gone, but Jim still felt too awake. He felt too aware.

“Let me guess,” Jim said as he reached down and pulled Daelman into a standing position, “this energy that I have right now is just another side-effect of the vaccines or that weird thing you guys created to combat the side-effects of the vaccines-”

“No, Kirk,” Daelman grinned and clapped a hand on Jim’s shoulder, “that’s all you. Again?” Daelman asked as he gestured to the empty mat.

“Yeah.” 


	6. Chapter 6

Three more rounds of sparring later, Jim left the room feigning tiredness. He just didn’t understand why he wasn’t losing his energy. He didn’t feel like he was going to scratch right through his skin to his muscles anymore, but he still felt like he could go for a run or do a hundred pushups and maybe that was a good idea because he could feel he itchiness start to come back ---

_\---fuck!_

Jim gripped the headboard of his bed and _pulled_ upwards. The metal bent and curled and shrieked and eventually the entirety of the headboard was in Jim’s hand. Jim threw the huge chunk of titanium across the room, where it dented the metal wall and fell heavily to the floor.

Jim’s fingers, trembling from adrenaline, twisted into his hair. He didn’t understand why this was happening why the fuck is this going on this is such shit---

Somewhere in Jim’s head, he knew that he shouldn’t be concerned about himself; he should be concerned about all of the people Khan had killed, he should be concerned about the Enterprise and the fate of the Earth now that Khan had a huge, powerful ship and the ability to mount an attack against Jim’s home world at any time.

But Jim wasn’t.

He felt no concern for his old ship. He searched and searched for some reason to be upset, but he could find none. His apathy encompassed all. Jim frowned and scratched his head a little.

_What about the half-Vulcan? The one that loves you?_

With a jarring spike of shame, Jim realized he’d forgotten about Spock. Spock was out there somewhere, and he was in danger. He was going to try and rescue Jim, and he was going to die in the process. Jim could just feel it. 

_Which means,_ Jim thought grimly as he determinedly sat down in the desk chair and pulled up his barely-started computer virus files, _I’ll just have to rescue him before he rescues me._

((((((((((((()))))))))))) 

From the comfort of his own quarters, just after Alpha shift ended, Khan watched the recordings of Kirk and Daelman’s sparring session with a grin. The completely perfect way Kirk countered blows and threw some of his own, and the animalistic and predatory gleam in Kirk’s eyes made Khan completely sure.

He knew what was going on – Kirk was experiencing the first effects of the Augmentation. An abundance of energy to the point of pain was only the beginning of the onslaught of symptoms Kirk would be adjusting to. Extremely intense emotional responses and uncontrollable urges were sure to follow. Those urges would definitely be interesting, to say the least.

The captain permitted himself a small chuckle. He could imagine Kirk’s flushed face and blown pupils, his hair mussed and his mouth gaping as he gasped and writhed. He could imagine finally tasting that bronzed skin, those toned abdominal muscles glistening with sweat and saliva. And how fantastically insatiable Kirk would be once he got started.

Khan stared down with an indignant huff at the result of his imagination. Said reaction, creating a sizeable tent in Khan’s trousers, was something Khan shouldn’t be concentrating on for too long. It was also not something that seemed to want to go away by itself, so Khan unbuttoned his trousers, tugged down the zipper, and set to work.

_Oh, the struggle of being a virile, youthful superhuman._

((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))

 Spock sat, cross-legged and facing the solid wall of his cell, meditating. That was all he’d been doing since his initial panic had dissipated. Despite not having had a Pon Farr before, Spock knew exactly what he should be expecting. Spock would fall into the blood fever and there was almost no way to stop it.

Meditation was the only thing he could do – it was his last hope. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and did his best to focus on meditating, but he could feel his temperature begin to rise slightly higher than the normal. 

(((((((((())))))))))

Jim was, miraculously, almost done with his virus. He sat back in awe for a minute when he saw the entire thing coded out in front of him. He checked over it a few times, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

What had taken him more than six months a year or so before now only took him a matter of days?

And similarly, when he should have been recovering from a serious medical scare, Jim felt as if he could move an entire mountain by himself? He could focus on something and almost instantly remember all he knew on the subject or object, when before he’d have to re-read or re-learn the material? He could best Daelman, an Augmented superhuman with strength three times that of a Vulcan, in a no-holds-barred sparring match?

_You know exactly what’s going on. Stop pretending to be blind._

These abilities, they were almost…

Jim bolted from his seat and was out his door and running down the hallway before he could consider what he was doing.

The first ensign Jim came upon was most definitely not expecting a blonde, muscular, blue-eyed ex-captain to grip him by the shoulders and slam him against the wall of the corridor so hard he saw stars in front of his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?” The ensign’s companion’s exclamation was ignored.

“Where is Khan?” Jim demanded in a harsh growl.

The ensign looked startled; his brown eyes were wide and his breath was coming quickly. “I-I uhhh…h-his quarters? A-alpha shift ended half an hour ago and Captain Singh usually retires t-to his quarters…”

“And where are those?” Jim asked, loosening his hold on the poor guy’s shoulders a little.

“Fifteen doors down the hall on the right – you can’t miss it,” the ensign assured at Jim’s raised eyebrow.

Jim released the ensign, turned away from him and started his run down the corridor, stopping at the fifteenth door on the right and exhaling angrily when he found it was locked.

The blond rapped forcefully on the door. “Let me in, Khan you son of a bitch!” 

The door swished open to reveal Khan, all tight-fitting uniform and slightly mussed black hair and wild blue eyes. “Kirk, to what do I owe the _pleasure_?”

There was a certain purr to Khan’s voice that managed to distract Jim for a quick second. He blinked and remembered his reason for tracking the bastard down in the first place.

“What the _fuck_ did you do to me?” Jim snarled, stepping forward. His muscles were starting to feel itchy again. He could feel his hands start to sweat.

Khan raised an eyebrow. “‘ _Do’_ do you? I’ve done nothing to you, I assure you.”

“Then why do I feel so---” Jim paused for a minute, trying to find the right word, “…wrong?”

“Care to elaborate on that?” Khan asked, gesturing for Jim to enter his quarters. Once the door had swished closed behind Jim, Khan sat in an armchair and crossed his legs.

Jim did his best to not let the sight of the superhuman captain’s long legs folded elegantly over one another distract him from his purpose. “I have too much energy – I want to scratch my skin off because my muscles itch – and I’ve been…I’ve been…”

“You’ve been what, Kirk? Thinking too easily? Do answers come too quickly to you when you merely consider the possibilities for a brief moment? Feeling overly emotional or impulsive? Find yourself feeling less enthusiastic for things?” Khan wondered, forming a steeple with his fingers under his chin. He gazed at Jim for a moment, as if seeking something.

“How did you–?” Jim broke off. He stumbled back a step.

“Feeling too warm? Find that your strength is more impressive and that you seem to be breaking things in moments of high tension?” Khan stood from his seat and prowled towards Jim, who swallowed heavily but stood his ground. “Your sparring match with Daelman certainly helped, but even now,” Khan stopped just a few centimeters away from Jim, and his voice dropped in pitch, “you feel yourself losing what little control you’ve mustered. You feel your muscles ‘itch’ again. You feel your core body temperature rising. You feel blood rushing and your heart rate accelerating. Don’t you?”

“I-I uhhh…” Jim’s tongue stumbled over itself. He couldn’t concentrate anymore. He did indeed feel all of those things, and there was a pleasant stirring in his stomach that told him that even more pleasant things were to follow.

“I can help you with that excess energy of yours, Kirk. Not in the same way Daelman helped you, mind you, but extremely effective. This drain will last much longer than that cute little skirmish you had.”

Khan bent his head closer, so very near and yet Jim felt the distance was too large. Jim let his eyes fall to Khan’s lips.

“Allow me to help you.” Khan commanded.

Jim could barely muster the concentration to respond, but he managed, “Oh, God, yes.”

The Augment closed the small distance between them, tilted his head slightly to the side, and bent down to kiss Jim. Jim’s eyes fluttered closed.

And suddenly everything was sensation, and Jim was lost. He could feel Khan’s arms, all steely muscle and force, trapping him in an embrace. The solidity of Khan’s body against Jim’s was absolute and unmoving and Jim felt his face and neck burning. The gentle pressure of fingers traveled from Jim’s back up to the nape of his neck, where barest brush against fine hairs brought goosebumbs all across Jim’s still-heated skin.

Jim could feel everything, all at once and it was so very gloriously overwhelming. But Khan wasn’t close enough. Jim wrapped his arms around Khan’s shoulders and pulled himself as close as he possibly could---

_\---still not close enough---_

\---so he pulled himself away from Khan – mourning the loss of the long arms around his back and the fingers twined in his hair – for a fleeting and breathless moment to undo the button at the brunette’s collar and yank the zipper down.  The wide expanse of Khan’s peachy skin was finally exposed to Jim’s seeking eyes, and the gray uniform shirt fell to the floor.

“Very proactive of you, Kirk,” Khan murmured in Jim’s ear, enjoying the shudder it elicited. The brunette then made short work of Jim’s clothing while the frantic blonde was doing away with his own.

And finally, after a lengthy moment of limited contact during which the satisfying, dull fluttering of clothing falling to the floor mingled with Jim’s breathless gasps, the two resumed their crushing embrace. Jim could finally feel Khan pressing against him fully, and he had to admit that it was wonderful.

Fingers were raked through hair, skittered over sensitive skin, and made to grasp harshly at firm buttocks. Jim felt as if he was melting right into Khan’s hold, and he didn’t mind. He really, really didn’t mind.

The blonde was swept from his feet and flung bodily onto Khan’s bed, where he was momentarily left alone. There was the sound of a drawer being opened and closed again hurriedly, accompanied by the racket of the drawer’s contents being clattering against each other. Then Khan’s solid weight settled itself on top of Jim, keeping the man occupied with his steadily roaming, teasing mouth.

Jim’s thighs were spread apart with ease and a slick finger probed at the one spot he never thought would be touched by anyone else, ever. He gasped and trembled and his toes curled when the finger slipped inside of him and slowly began moving in and out. The uncomfortable burn eased as Khan licked a wet line down Jim’s chest and his other hand gripped Jim’s erection.

Khan locked eyes with Jim, and Jim saw that predatory blue, that impossible blue, framed by long, dark lashes, defined by pupils blown wide, and felt as if Khan were going to _eat him alive_. And Jim didn’t mind.

“Oh, good. You’re enjoying this,” Khan intoned, his breath hot in Jim’s ear. “Would you like another?”

Jim let out a noise that was somewhere in between a mewl and a whine, and was rewarded with a dark chuckle and a second finger slipped inside of him. There was definitely too much going on. He gripped the bed sheets hard with both hands, and when Khan’s fingers brushed against a _certain specific spot inside that just_ \---

\--- ** _holy fuck_** what was that?

He felt his muscles bunching as his back arched and he saw stars and he knew that at this point he was being quite _loud_ but _he didn’t care_ and---

“ _Fuck_!” Jim cried, and came all over Khan’s hand. Jim let his head fall back to lay on the mattress, exposing his neck to Khan, who seemed to delight in kissing, licking, and biting in various locations.

“Very good, Kirk. Very nice, indeed. But you’re not done yet, are you? I bet you could continue all night. In fact, I think I might just have to make you,” Khan murmured into Jim’s neck. “You just look so _lovely_ under me.”

Khan’s hand was still wrapped around Jim’s cock, and so he began to stroke the breathless, flushed blonde back into hardness. It really didn’t take very much effort – Jim was still trying to regain his breath and therefore couldn’t make any protests.

And once Jim was hard again, he was in no mood to say no.

Khan grinned wickedly when the hungry glint returned to Jim’s eyes, and was tackled in a ravaging kiss.

This was much better than Khan had imagined.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))))

The plodding of boots on the floor of the hallway outside of Admiral Archer’s office came along with a certain creeping dread. The five dignitaries inside, including Admiral Archer himself, fell silent. This was the news they had been waiting for.

“Sir,” the woman stood upright in the door of the office and saluted shakily, a grim set to her mouth and her eyes bloodshot as she continued, “we have received no contact from the platoon sent to destroy the _Vengeance_.” There were tear tracks all over her face, and she hastily wiped away the fresh ones that began to fall.

Admiral Archer’s head fell forward slowly and he closed his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out as evenly as he could. “Thank you, Miss Reese. I am so sorry about your sister – I’m sure she did everything she could.”

Eva Reese bowed her head in gratitude once, then turned on her heel and left the meeting.

(((((((((((((())))))))))))))

“And how are you doing today, Mr. Spock?” The doctor asked.

“And what does it matter to you?” Spock countered in monotone, eyes still closed and legs still crossed, still trying to meditate.

“I was assigned to study you, Mr. Spock. I have no orders to keep you alive or allow you to be unrestrained, but I am not in the habit of causing you more discomfort. However, if you continue to be uncooperative, I will not hesitate to restrain you and study you from my labs,” MO Nelson finished calmly.

Spock stood, whirled around, and glared hatefully at MO Nelson. “You want to know how I am doing today? I am feverish, I am angry, and I wish to see James Tiberius Kirk before I violently murder you and peel the flesh from your bones,” Spock snarled.

“Okay, I am definitely putting down ‘signs of hostility.’” MO Nelson tapped something into his data pad, smiling easily and nodding.

Spock slammed his fist against the glass door of his cell, notably more upset when Nelson didn’t even flinch.

Spock’s dark, wild eyes tracked over to the small, moveable hole in the glass, so very similar to the one in the brig of the _Enterprise_.

The half-Vulcan’s hand flashed out, grabbed the edges of the metal ring around the hole, and crushed it as best he could. There was a brief flickering of the tiny blue lights that adorned the ring, a small beeping sound, and then Spock was widening the portal until it was large enough to crawl through.

MO Nelson was so surprised that he did not put up sufficient defense against Spock when the half-Vulcan reached him. There were two powerful blows under Nelson’s chin, and he fell backwards onto the floor.

Spock, in his rumpled and creased uniform, made his way to the door of the brig. He destroyed the keypad next to the exit and walked through it. 

He set off in a random direction, hoping it would lead him the right way.

He had someone to find.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the WARNING for this chapter is GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.

If Spock hadn’t been so focused on finding Jim, he definitely would have noticed. His blood rushed in his ears and he felt too warm and he was getting light-headed, and he _definitely_ would have noticed if these symptoms hadn’t been plaguing him 

Spock would have noticed that there wasn’t anybody in the hallways he was using, and that his thoughtless and dark steps seemed almost monstrous in their destruction of the silence of the clean, white hall.

The half-Vulcan’s vision went blurry for a scarce moment, and he paused to breathe slowly through his nose. He slammed his fist against one of the walls, simultaneously hating and loving the noise the impact brought. It was at once too loud and not loud enough. It didn’t drown out the sound of his heart beating.

_Thud_

_Thud_

_Thud_

Spock punched the wall again and again and again until his fists bled and the green ran down the walls in a lazy trickle. He turned and walked away to the rhythm of his pulse thudding through his ears and the slower _drip drip drip_ of blood through his clenched fingers.

_Jim_

_Jim_

_Jim_

_T’hy’la._

((((((((((()))))))))))

“Hmmm…just a bit out of character for him, isn’t it?” Khan asked offhandedly, his communicator pressed to his ear. His eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Well, Sir, we were expecting something like this from him – he _is_ under the influence of his Pon Farr,” Daelman nonchalantly replied. “Naturally, he’s heading in _your_ direction.”

Ahh, right. Spock would head in Khan and Jim’s direction. Minimal danger. Vulcans had on their most _intense_ days of Pon Farr were only about as strong as an Augment. Easily beaten and subdued.

“Yes, yes of course,” Khan said. “Well, I suppose just keep out of his way, then. Stop him if he gets too close to my quarters.”

“Yes, Sir,” and with that, there was a tiny beep head across Khan’s end as Daelman terminated the connection.

“Now, then, Kirk,” Khan smirked down at the moaning mess that was Jim, “shall we pick this up where we left off?” He bent his head to the blonde’s and sucked gently on an earlobe.

By this time, the ex-captain was lost in what seemed to be an endless cycle of desire, pleasure, and stupor, followed by Khan doing or saying something that made Jim erect again.

“Are you _enjoying_ the enhanced stamina, Kirk?” Khan had murmured just after Jim’s sixth breathless orgasm, to which Jim could only reply with a helpless groan. Khan had then licked a cool line from Jim’s collarbone to the edge of his jaw and stirred a new flame in the poor blonde’s loins.

Oh, yes – Khan and his burning blue eyes reduced Jim to no more than a pliable mass, and Khan decided that his own pleasure was well overdue. Therefore, he ran a hand, slick with lube and sweat and seamen, down his own erection.

“May I?” Khan asked. He stared down at Jim, whose pupils were so dilated that his sky blue irises were just thin rings around the darkness.

Jim replied with a whine, and his spine arched with the odd spikes of pain and the pleasure of finally being completely filled because _goddamn Khan had thought it’d be wonderful to tease him and ahhhhh right there---_

“I can tell you don’t do this often,” Khan said with a little waver in his voice, “but _fuck_ , Jim, if your ass doesn’t feel lovely.”

“I-I – a-ahhh…” Jim tried and stopped when the muscular brunette pulled out and thrust back in, this time seemingly even deeper than he had been before. Sharp sparks of something indescribable danced up and down Jim’s nerves. “ _K-kha-aann_ ,” Jim groaned, and gripped onto the brunette’s back for dear life, “ _pl-eaase_.”

Khan chuckled sharply and asked, “How would you like it, Jim? Rough and fast? Or perhaps slowly while I whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Or gently until you beg me for more?”

Jim hadn’t really pegged Khan for the kind of guy who’d talk dirty during sex – he definitely wasn’t complaining – and Jim’s imagination spun tantalizing images from Khan’s husky words.

“Kha-an, _please_ …” Jim’s bones tingled and he struggled to bite out the rest of the phrase, “ _ju-ust fuck me_!” His hips bucked upwards in an attempt to inspire the dark-haired man into motion once more.

“ _Hmmm_ ,” Khan’s teeth found Jim’s collarbone, “as you wish. You might want to find something to _hold on to_.”

Jim didn’t even have time to muse upon the idea that Khan thought he was so fantastic in bed that Jim needed to hold on to something – after the briefest of pauses Khan was setting a brutal pace that left Jim gasping for air.

“K-khan! I-I c-can’t-” Jim gasped, and dug his fingernails into Khan’s back. He felt them break the man’s skin, but instead of wincing Khan only laughed a little breathlessly and continued moving.

“You can come, Jim,” Khan breathed, and angled his thrusts a bit differently so he brushed Jim’s prostate each time, “but know that you’ll be doing so without me even touching your cock.”

Jim didn’t pay attention enough to be embarrassed, as he was too busy clenching every muscle he knew and almost passing out from the sheer force of his orgasm.

And Khan didn’t even slow down. In no time, Jim was hard again and begging for release while the captain mercilessly plunged forth.

Khan grinned in triumph, and let his fifth climax rock through him. He allowed Jim a brief reprieve from the harsh treatment, and instead locked lips with the blond. Jim tilted his head to the side and wound confident fingers through Khan’s hair, pulling him closer still.

*~*~*~*

“Khan…” Jim began, as he lay, sticky and sweaty, with Khan’s arms wrapped around his middle. Khan was looking down at him with his molten eyes so softly that Jim needed to glance away. “Why…?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you…” there was a brief pause where Jim was searching for a more delicate way to phrase it, and when he failed he defaulted to, “…have sex with me?”

Khan exhaled softly through his nose, something that may have been a scoff, “You arrived here so angry I thought you’d rip my head from my shoulders. I needed a way to get you to calm down enough so that we could actually discuss what you _came here to discuss_. That ‘way’ just happened to be sex.”

Jim mused for a moment before finding that Khan was absolutely right – Jim was calm and cool as a cucumber, and that horrible itching in his muscles was gone.

“Well, now that I’m not…” going out of my fucking mind, “…upset anymore, would you answer my question?”

“I will answer anything you ask,” Khan replied.

“Okay…what did you and your crew do to me? Why do I feel so…different?

“Oh, Jim,” Khan’s eyebrows scrunched together and he looked almost…sad? “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“But why?” Jim asked. He wracked his brain for anything that might merit this most permanent of transformations, and found nothing. He hadn’t done anything wrong!

“Because I am selfish and humans are fragile,” Khan said simply. He pressed a kiss to Jim’s forehead, stood, walked naked to the bathroom, and returned with a wet washcloth.

“Explain,” Jim demanded.

“As you wish.” 

((((((((()))))))))

Spock’s vision blurred and he stumbled against the wall. He breathed heavily for a moment and watched the blood welling from his split knuckles sluggishly come to a stop. He clenched his fists and felt his nails biting into his palms.

“Hey, buddy, you need to come with us.”

Spock’s head snapped up from its hanging position to observe two of Khan’s crewmembers standing about ten feet in front of him.

“Captain Singh doesn’t want you near here. Come with us, or we will forcefully escort you back to the brig,” the taller one started to move in Spock’s direction, and the Vulcan bared his teeth menacingly in response.

“ _Get away from me_!” Spock spat, “I need to find _Jim_!”

“He’s being aggressive. Can we act on our own?” The shorter one asked.

The taller one shrugged. “As long as we don’t kill him, we can do whatever we need to in order to keep him away from here.”

“Good,” said the shorter one as he cracked his knuckles, “’cuz sparring hasn’t been cutting it lately.”

“I know what you mean. Let’s do this, then.”

In a flash, the shorter of the two was throwing a punch at Spock. The half-Vulcan barely managed to counter the strike with a raised forearm, and threw one back in revenge. The punch caught the short crewmember under the chin, just as it had the doctor from Spock’s cell, and Spock felt the split skin of his knuckles begin to ooze blood again. The crewmember fell with a cry, clutching his broken jaw and trying to regain his footing.

The taller one then threw his arms around Spock’s neck in a chokehold, which was easily broken when Spock reached behind himself to pinch at the sensitive nerve in the Augment’s neck. Said Augment grunted in pain but remained conscious enough to sweep Spock’s legs out from under him with a forceful kick.

The impact knocked the wind out of Spock’s lungs, and there was a foot on his neck keeping him pressed to the ground before he could blink.

With his next breath, Spock caught a whiff of something peculiar drifting down the hall. It smelled like petrichor and fresh apples and glass and the pleasant aridness of Spock’s home on Vulcan.

It smelled like Jim.

With the refreshed desire spurring him into motion once more, Spock gripped the foot that pressed down on his neck and _twisted_ , relishing in the sharp cracking of bones and the pained intake of breath from the crewmember. Spock flung the foot away from him and the rest of the man followed. The shorter crewmember threw himself bodily at Spock, who was most definitely ready for another chance to break something.

He caught the crewmember around the neck, allowed the momentum to swing the both of them around, and with several practiced motions Spock wrapped his hands across the man’s forehead and chin and jerked to the side. There was a quick squeal of pain and then a short snap and the man fell from Spock’s grasp to rest, unmoving, on the cold floor.

The taller one leapt at Spock as best he could with his broken leg and foot, but he, too, fell prey to the half-Vulcan’s quick reflexes and intense Pon Farr-induced strength. He, too, fell with eyes blank and unseeing to the ground.

Spock turned towards the scent.

He walked.

(((((((())))))))

“Report,” Daelman commanded from his chair, “what of the prisoner?”

“He’s not here now, Sir, but he was,” the ensign on the other end replied. There was a slight hitch in her voice that made Daelman’s eyes narrow.

“What do you mean by that, Ensign?”

“We’ve underestimated him, we miscalculated his strength...Sir, Emile and Rico are…” the Ensign paused here to catch a breath, “ _dead_.”

Daelman blinked quickly to rid them of the tears that began to gather there. “Are you sure?” His voice cracked audibly.

“Yes, Sir. Their necks are broken… Sir, I’m so sorry---”

“Thank you, Ensign Vance,” Daelman interrupted, choking. He ended the link, set his earpiece down on the desk of his station, and was to the door of the lift before anyone on the bridge could comment. There was a growing emptiness in the pit of Daelman’s chest and he didn’t want to show any weakness in front of the rest of the crew.

Once Daelman had indicated the correct deck on the keypad and was alone, he allowed his tears to well and flow down his cheeks. “Emile…” Daelman murmured, “…why? Why would you take him on? How could you…” a tiny sob escaped, and Daelman’s hands grasped franticly at nothing, so he wrapped them around himself instead, “…how could you leave me alone?”

The lift stopped and the doors swooshed open and Daelman wiped his tears and set off running down the corridor as fast as he could with a terrifying snarl twisting his lips.

Emile Daelman-Peters was dead because of that disgusting half-breed that attacked the ship.

Emile Daelman-Peters was dead because of Spock.

Naldo Daelman’s husband was dead because of Spock.

Spock was a dead man walking.

Daelman rushed past Ensign Vance and the two bodies that lay on the floor. In just a glance, Daelman saw the gaping mouth of Rico Vance. His amber eyes were glazed over and his head lolled to the side and he looked as if he were a marionette whose strings had been cut. Daelman remembered how lively Rico had been during dinner just a few hours before, how excited he’d been for his and Mary’s second wedding anniversary celebration, and Daelman wanted to throw up.

The blonde refused to look at Emile.

No, instead Daelman decided to remember Emile the way he’d been. His soft tawny brown hair that hung in his equally soft brown eyes and his short stature that allowed him to just tuck his head under Daelman’s chin when they hugged. Daelman decided to remember the way Emile would kiss him softly just before a meal and smile at the littlest of things, as if he were sharing in a private joke. Emile would hum while he worked sometimes, and he would bounce his leg to the beat of whatever song it was. Daelman remembered the soft smiles and quiet laughs and bad jokes that Emile would tell when he knew Daelman was bored.

Daelman remembered, and his hatred for Spock grew with every little action or habit he remembered of his late husband.

_Emile, I will avenge you_ , Daelman promised, _or I will die trying._

((((((((()))))))))

“Really?” Jim asked. “Twelve of them? What happened?”

“The sequencing of the cryogenic tubes…when wrong,” Khan replied as he worked. He dragged the wet cloth from one area to another of Jim’s skin to clear away the evidence of their activities. “Twelve of my family died, and Marcus discarded their bodies as if they were trash.”

“I…I’m so sorry,” Jim said.

“It wasn’t your fault, Kirk,” Khan murmured.

“Wh-what you said…uhh… _earlier_ ,” Jim emphasized awkwardly, “did you mean it?”

“Jim,” Khan said, peering up into Jim’s eyes and pausing in his ministrations, “If I didn’t mean it, I would not have said it.”

The captain then began the slow movement of the cloth again.

Khan was just cleaning the last of the sweat and saliva and seamen and lube from Jim, having already cleaned himself up and dressed in a fresh pair of underwear, when he head a peculiar sound from just outside his quarters. There was a very loud thud against the wall near to the door, followed by a gasping, choked cough.

There was shouting in what Khan assumed to be Vulcan, and Jim’s eyes widened and he was shoving his legs through a pair of pants and rushing to the door with Khan close behind him.

Khan exclaimed, “ _Daelman_!”

The first officer in question was blue and purple in the face, and being held up against the wall by his neck with his arms dangling uselessly by his sides. His lips were moving in such a manner that one would assume he was gulping down air, but no air could make its way down his throat. His eyes were fluttering closed.

Jim’s eyes tracked from the fingers that entrapped his friend to their owner. The pale face of Spock stared up at his prey vacantly and tightened his grip.

Khan’s shock wore off and he made to stop Spock, but he was too late.

Spock had his hands on Daelman’s jaw and turned them with a blindingly fast motion, and it was all Jim could do to not scream.

With a sickening, deafening, horrible snap, Naldo Daelman was dead.

He hung in the insane half-Vulcan’s hands for a terrible moment, a broken doll just before being discarded or a dying ember being snuffed out by a cruel and heavy boot, and then he fell.

((((((()))))))

_I’m sorry, Emile._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t avenge you._

_I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you._

_I’m sorry our time was cut short._

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_I’ll see you soon._

_A fleeting pressure and then Daelman’s vision whitened and blurred and he was embraced warmly by a teary brunette whose head fit just perfectly under Daelman’s chin._

_It’s okay, Nal’. I’ve got you._

((((((((())))))))))

Khan was crying, Jim noticed numbly. There were actual tears actually dripping from Khan’s quicksilver eyes.

“Daelman,” Khan choked as he stared at the man’s corpse.

“Jim – _T’hy’la_!” Spock cried huskily. His normally calm brown eyes were wild and empty and they honestly scared the shit out of Jim.

“I will destroy you,” Khan growled menacingly, taking step after slow step towards Spock.

Spock’s laser focus was immediately on Khan, and Jim watched in horror as the two began circling each other.

Khan lunged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, really I am. If it makes you feel any better, I cried like three times while writing this thing, so...yeah...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> -DH


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. It's back. It's about a year late, but it's back. This is one of the last chapters, TBH. Maybe this one and then an epilogue? Hmmm. Idk. WIP.  
> Thanks for sticking with me, guys. You're wonderful.  
> -DH

They’d been designed to be better, Khan had explained gently. They’d been designed to be keepers of the peace. Human beings with their chromosomes shifted around – they were meant to be a quick fix for the horrors of the Cold War. 

_The humans, the non-Augments, they destroyed everything they touched. The supposed people of peace built weapons of war, machines of chaos._

A warm light – a beacon for all of mankind. 

They were meant to be better, and so they were.

Stronger, faster, higher latent learning capacities than any other creature on earth; these were the characteristics of the Augments.

_the men in white and masks came in the mornings and their grip on his arms hurt -_

_testing – more testing. Everyday there was testing and more testing –_

Children grew quickly and then the aging abruptly slowed, though no metabolic functions did.

_the world was cold inside the labs –_

_hands touching his skin, poking around his mouth, inserting needles into his veins –_

_he was running. Climbing. Jumping. Enduring as much as he could until the world went black –_

_they sliced his skin and watched it heal back up. There was talk of removing a limb to observe the regenerative capabilities._

Augments could survive on minimal food and water, and had enough strength to punch through tanks if they _really_ tried. Breaking bone was child’s play.

_He was bred to be superior. He was bred to keep the peace. He was bred to show no emotion and to feel no emotion._

And with all of these capabilities, with all of these skills, with all of this power, there came a great fear.

_The humans left too much of themselves in him. They should have known they couldn’t keep him oppressed forever._

Attacks began, and innocent people died. Non-Augmented humans attempted to kill Khan’s family, so he responded in kind, and took control of the land he wanted. His fellow Augments did the same, and the creators of the Augments were the first ones to go. Khan’s home was destroyed and he was forced to flee into space, with a measly 84 members of his race. Twelve of them perished in cryo.

Vulcan was destroyed, and Khan and his family were found and awakened.  And once again at the mercy of the human race. Khan’s friends were taken hostage in exchange for his compliance.

It was rather disorienting to find how far space travel had come, but only for a moment. Khan familiarized himself with the capabilities of space vessels and went about improving them. He designed and named the _Vengeance_.

It was during one of the rare times that he was escorted from place to place within a group of people – because the general public couldn’t know that there was a criminal in their midst, let alone one that needed constant surveillance – that he saw the most fantastic man.

He was blonde and tan, and his eyes sparkled blue and bright and laughing at something someone had said. He shone like a star amidst the gloom of the corridor, and, metaphorically speaking, he took Khan’s breath away. A feeling Khan had never known rose in his chest, and he nearly felt like he was choking. The moment was destroyed by one of Khan’s inconspicuously armed guards, prodding him firmly in the back to keep him moving.

Khan wished to know that feeling again, wished to know how that man _worked_ , he decided later as he sat in a locked room. So he escaped, and found a man willing to do anything to save his daughter.

Opening fire in a room full of people who most definitely may have included the man was a calculated risk Khan was willing to take, if only to have his revenge on Marcus. To his intense disdain, Khan did not fatally wound Marcus.

Then he saw the man – the captain of the _Enterprise_ , the one which received the torpedoes Khan had designed – again on Kronos, and his plan rearranged itself in an instant. His family – his friends, his crew – they were so close. He would have been able to force himself to sit still in the _Enterprise_ medical bay until he could get to a point where taking over the Enterprise was an option, but then Marcus came along.

Crushing the man’s head was the most pleasurable thing Khan had been able to do in nearly 200 years, and taking the man, James Kirk, was simply icing on the cake.  The intriguing blond man was nearly perfect, and Khan admired him for the sake of Kirk’s humanity, which Khan seemed to lack. The only thing left was to enhance Kirk and make sure that time didn’t take him from Khan too soon.

With the things he had at his disposal, it would be easy to reach a life-sustaining planet and rule it with his family by his side, serving as the protectors they were meant to be.

The protectors they were _created_ to be.

_Nobody can stand between me and my goals now_ , Khan reasoned, and he explained this to Kirk as soon as they were finished with Kirk’s “stress relief.”

But Khan hadn’t counted on the Vulcan, Spock, and this was brought to his attention as soon has he heard Daelman choking to death just outside of his quarters’ doors.

()()()()()

Khan lunged at Spock, and Jim watched with dim horror as the two grappled.

Any thoughts of Khan’s invincibility were immediately squashed when he staggered as Spock landed a punch to his jaw. Khan retaliated with a sharp kick to the Vulcan’s skull, and Jim could’ve sworn he heard a small crack.

The battle continued in this manner for several moments, and no headway was gained until Khan wrapped his hands around Spock’s throat and squeezed.

Jim noticed with growing agitation that Spock’s hand was poised for a Vulcan mind-meld. Jim didn’t know what exactly that entailed, as he’d never thought to ask, but he knew that it couldn’t possibly be good.

Before he could actually completely reason it through, Jim was stepping between Spock and Khan, and three of Spock’s fingers pressed against the side of his face.

Jim _screamed_.

Everything was burning. Everything hurt. Waves of agony shot through his muscles, and he could hear his blood pounding in his ears, louder than it had ever been before. It was worse than the all-consuming itch. Hot tongues of fire licked their way down his flesh and the air was heavy and Jim wanted to pass out. Thudding words in time with his heart drumming –

_T’hy’la_

_T’hy’la_

_T’hy’la_

Behind the word Jim could feel the meaning – the bloody feverish haze spreading through his brain like fire, and the only way to quench it was in front of him. His blood fought against him, urging him to merge with this foreign consciousness and pulling him forward and in and in and in and in –

And suddenly the hand was wrenched from his face, and Jim’s mind was his own again, and there was a loud exclamation from somewhere. Khan was snarling fast, low words at Spock, but Jim couldn’t pay attention. Tremors ran down his arms, a phantom reminder of the pain. His nerves, his very bones, charred – Jim collapsed.

There was a rush of motion from somewhere that wasn’t important, and then peace. Suddenly, the familiar quicksilver of Khan’s eyes filled Jim’s blurry vision. Hands ran through Jim’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. Cool lips pressed against his own and his head was gently pillowed on someone’s lap. Through ringing ears Jim heard someone mention something about a medical bay.

He thought that was a great idea.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, yay!!!!  
> this one is a bit shit, just warning you. oopsie.  
> sorry guys, but this marks the end of the very, very long wait for an end to this story. sorry if it's not what you guys wanted, but i wanted so simulate what would happen in real life.  
> in real life, love is messy and uncertain and weird and you never quite know when you have it or when you've lost it, and i think that's just a little bit beautiful.  
> but still.  
> thanks for sticking with me throughout all of this fucking crap and i'll see y'all on the other side, yea?  
> peace.  
> -DH

Khan was suddenly pushed backwards and away from the Vulcan and heard Jim scream louder than he'd ever witnessed, and saw the vermin's fingertips pressed against Jim's face. With speed he'd practiced for decades, Khan was grasping the Vulcan's hand and twisting it as hard as he could, snapping the wrist bone and wrenching his arm so hard that he heard the bone popping out of the shoulder joint. 

"If you've hurt him, I'll bring the _sky_ downupon New Vulcan!" Khan bit out, and plunged his hand into the Vulcan's side, easily splitting bone and tissue, gripping the man's heart and _crushing_. 

There were a few gratifying, terribly wonderful moments in which the only sounds were the choking, gasping, dying breaths of Spock's struggles to live. Eventually, the gargling sound went away and Spock's lifeless corpse slumped against Khan's intruding hand. His query's brown eyes lifeless and glazed, Khan slipped his hand out of the Vulcan's side and let his body fall to the floor. 

Then he sent an urgent message for assistance to the medical bay and zipped over to Jim, who lay bleeding from the nose on the floor. The captain did his best to keep Jim comfortable until help arrived, but there was only so much he could do.

For Khan, the arrival of the CMO and other members of the medical staff took hours. It felt as if there were centuries between the end of his fight with the Vulcan and people approaching him to help Jim. 

"Captain, what happened?" Ray asked as he and his team gently separated Jim from Khan and laid him out on a stretcher. 

When Khan was sure that Jim was in the capable hands of the medical team, he felt his intense worry morphing into fury. Dark red blood sluggishly dripped from Khan's already-healed wounds. A foreign, green-colored blood coated his hands and clothing. 

"The _Vulcan_ ," Khan seethed through clenched teeth, "did something to his mind." 

Jim was pale. He was very, very pale. His sallow, sweaty skin was much too pale for Khan's comfort, and fresh blood dripped steadily and continuously from his nose. 

"Captain, I need you to focus for me. Did the Vulcan say anything to you- anything to indicate his intentions with the mind-trick?" Scott asked as he waved his team away from Khan for the moment.

"He said something about 'T'hy'la' - it seemed important. He said it in reference to Kirk," Khan recited automatically. 

Scott sprang into action, "Nira and Vex, you search for anything about this 'T'hy'la' - Verne and Lita, please transport Kirk to the med bay and keep him sedated - everything we've got, please - and Lucus I need you to get this ship to New Vulcan as stealthily and quickly as you can," his gaze turned to Khan, "Captain, go with Kirk to the med bay. The mind is a tricky thing, Captain, even when the patient has augmented abilities, but I promise you that I'll do all I can to help him."

*()*

CMO Scott's version of doing 'all that he could' involved kidnapping a Mind Healer from the planet of New Vulcan, and coercing them to work on the _Vengeance_ for an indeterminate period of time (until Jim was healed) under penalty of the death of the healer's family and friends. The frightened Vulcan woman wondered just who had done so much damage to the newly-Augmented Jim Kirk's mind, and when she was informed that it occurred during the rogue ex-captain Spock's Pon Farr she was absolutely horrified. The healer fixed as much of Jim's mind as she was able to, and the crew of the _Vengeance_ mercifully returned her to her home on New Vulcan with the assurance that she would tell no-one of where the ship full of Augments went. 

CMO Scott was left with the sage advice to let James Kirk sleep as long as he needed to, and at first he was worried that Jim would be up and about in no time at all and making trouble for himself around the ship and not taking the time to heal properly. But as the sedatives wore out of Jim's bloodstream, the blonde didn't wake. 

Those worries were unfounded, because as time went on and on and on - days became weeks, and weeks became months, and eventually those months combined to become a standard Earth year - it became apparent that Jim was in a coma. 

*()*

Khan had had to leave Jim's side, and thus the captain of the Vengeance wasn't able to spend as much time with his comatose lover as he would have hoped, but there were definitely upsides to being an Augment; Khan cut back on the sleep he allowed himself and spoke gently to Jim. He read several books to the blond, and routinely brushed through the man's hair and helped massage his muscles to try and retain the majority of his muscle mass. 

For the first six months, Khan retained his hope in the superior healing capacities of Augmented humans, and then as the seventh month began he felt the niggling doubt begin to eat away at his conscious. 

He spent more time by Jim's side than he ever had before, reading louder and holding one-sided conversations with Jim, and he knew that his temper was slipping as he missed more and more scheduled sparring sessions. It came to the point that he was nearly in danger of flying into a rage and hurting people around him. The risk of being around Jim as much was just too great. 

So he distanced himself from the object of all of his obsessive thoughts - was he his boyfriend? Or was that word an overestimate of his perceived relationship? He wondered what he should call Jim. He wished Jim were awake so they could discuss it. 

There was so much that they had left unsaid - they'd been interrupted so suddenly, and at such a sensitive point, right in the middle of Khan's explanation of how he came to be, and at this point, there was no guarantee that they would ever get a chance to resolve what had been left, for lack of a better word, hanging.  

And Khan wondered where exactly along the line he'd stopped being interested in Jim in a purely curiosity-driven manner, and when he felt the feeling growing into something a lot deeper and more...almost natural-feeling. 

He didn't dare call it love - he'd never felt love before and didn't have a reference point, and was dreadfully afraid of mislabelling. 

Khan angrily stood from his chair at the helm of his ship. "Reatha!" Khan yelled, "Spar with me! I need to blow off some steam!" 

"Of course, Captain," the purple-haired woman acquiesced.  

There were many, many rounds of fighting that day, and they didn't end until one of Reatha's fellow shift mates had to lead her away from the mat, and Khan had to yell for a new sparring partner. 

It didn't feel good spending so much time away from Jim - Khan felt a small bit hollow inside. 

He ate his meals mechanically, and he spoke even more so. 

Khan was a patient man, but he knew that time was running out for him. He couldn't get Jim off his mind and he couldn't get the blond's voice out of his ears, though he hadn't heard it in more than a year. 

He wondered if he was slowly going insane.

()

He'd been told that time could heal all wounds, and he'd believed it. 

But this time, the wound was taking too much _fucking_ _time_ to heal. 

()

Beneath pale eyelids, bright azure eyes shifted and moved, until those eyelids peeled back and revealed dilated pupils and bloodshot scleras. 

Jim awoke confused, and slightly scared. The last thing he remembered was shoving Khan away from Spock, and a horrific pain in his head. 

He wanted to see Khan - he wanted to make sure that Khan was okay. 

Who knew what Spock could have done to Khan?

He was in the Vengeance's med bay, though, so nothing could've gone too horribly wrong. 

"Welcome back to the realm of the living, Mr. Kirk," called someone brightly, but softly, from Jim's left side.

Jim looked around, and saw the smiling and excited face of CMO Scott. 

"I'll call the captain and tell him that you've woken up, and then I'll start some check-up stuff, okay?" The doctor was so happy and grinning so broadly it was infectious, again. 

Jim only nodded and grinned back, not trusting his voice yet. 

That mean Khan was okay - and that he hadn't forgotten about Jim.

Anticipation swelled in Jim's chest, and he stared at the med bay doors and waited as patiently as he could manage.

()

Khan, the ever-proud captain of the _Vengeance_ , was overseeing the relations between his people and the people of the small planet he'd found when he got a call from CMO Scott in the med bay.

One year and two months and three days after falling unconscious, James T. Kirk was awake. 

He knew that soon he'd be able to resolve all the questions he had, but even more than that he knew that he'd be able to see Jim again. He'd be able to speak with Jim again. He'd be able to hold Jim again, even. 

When he saw Jim's bright blue eyes open and looking around, alert and awake, and just as sane as Khan had ever seen him, Khan's breath left him. He sat next to Jim and he held his hand and kissed his jaw very, very gently, and he decided that he didn't quite care about what the two of them were. 

Jim leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to Khan's lips, and Khan decided that clarifications could wait. 

The situation was messy, and nothing was perfect, but they had a home, and they had a ship, and they had each other. 

And they had quite a long while to figure it out, after all. 

**~End~**


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